The Lost Civilization: Charon
by dashboardgecko
Summary: "The mind is a plaything of the body," they say, that our physical form dictates the way we think and act. But if our form were to change to something unrecognizable, would our mind become someone different as well? And is it better to live as another, or to die as yourself? Six individuals ask this question, but what answer will they find? A Lost Civilization side-story.
1. The Lost, Jacob

The Lost, Jacob

 _Disclaimer: Monster Hunter is copyright Capcom. All the characters in this story are mine._

 _Edited by: Hoenn Master96 and Thomas A. Hawk and DinoJake_

 _This story is CANON with The Lost Civilization_

* * *

 _"The awakened, the enlightened man says: I am body entirely, and nothing beside; and soul is only a word for something in the body. Your body is a great intelligence... Your little intelligence, brother, which you call 'spirit', is also an instrument of your body, a little instrument and toy of your great intelligence."_

Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra

* * *

June 14

So I-

Right. I should-

I'm not sure how to start this. Do I introduce myself? Am I supposed to treat this like I'm talking to somebody, or like I'm making a report? Is it like 'this happened, then this happened'? Refer to graph 1A for details? See attached bibliography for sources?

No. This is for personal use. I'll keep it casual.

Alright, I'll just introduce myself. To the dia- journal, I guess. I know these things supposed to be private, but just in case, I'll make a note of it. Maybe one day I'll go senile and need to remind myself who I am.

And now I'm depressed. We're off to a great start.

Right, moving on. My name's Jacob Fredricks. It's a simple name, but it's the one my mom gave me, so I'll stick with it. I was born September 8th, in a small town in northern Ohio, though that probably doesn't mean as much as it used to, since there's not exactly an Ohio anymore. Not that the place where Ohio used to be isn't there anymore, but it's probably not called 'Ohio' anymore. It's probably just grasslands or something, or forest. I don't really know, maybe it's in the ocean by now, if it's been a really long time, so I guess-

Sorry, I'm getting off topic.

Who am I apologizing to, myself? The dia- journal?

Forget it, Ohio doesn't matter. Because an inanimate object can totally forget things. I'm so bad at this.

Okay, screw this. Just press on and don't worry about stupid little turns of phrase. Zerg rush. Zerg rush!

Like I said, born September 8th. I think I'm 25 years old right now, but the timing's all messed up. The whole Lost crystal thing really distorted things. You could make an argument that I'm something like ten thousand years old or something like that, but I don't think stasis or whatever those things did to us really counts.

Oh, yeah, I'm a Lost, too. One of the 'awakened' ones, or whatever. I'm not sure how to describe this easily, but I'll try. So, I come from a world (though 'time' would probably be more accurate) where there-

You know what, let's skip that. Auru said diaries are for personal use, right? Just trying to note things that happened? This thing's supposed to be about me, for me. I don't need to remind myself what a Lost is. And future, senile me can suffer if I forget. Or just ask your kids or grandkids! Or caretaker! Get it together, future me!

Okay, short version. I'm one of a group of Lost that woke up in the Volcano hunting grounds a few years back, after the thing they call the Alatreon was killed. The first few months after awakening are kind of a blur for me, but apparently that's to be expected. First they carted us off to some place called Frost Town, then I joined a group headed for Loc Lac. I spent about a couple years there before joining a couple guys I'd met in a journey to the southeast.

The guys I left Loc Lac with ended up not being the greatest people in the world. Turns out the reason they were leaving Loc Lac in the first place was because they'd tried to scam the locals with a pyramid scheme or something like that, and when they'd gotten figured out they tried to get out of Dodge until the heat cooled down. From what I heard, they were going to try and claim I was the ringleader and pin the whole thing on me if things went sour. Luckily for me, when the lawmen caught and arrested them, they'd already pegged everything on them. I guess when they got interrogated, their stories didn't line up, so the lawmen let me go.

Great start, right? Try to make friends and nearly get framed for a life in prison. Not exactly the best beginning to a new life.

That left me in a whole different pickle, though. I didn't get sent to prison, but all the money I had was taken in case it was part of the scam, leaving me in the middle of nowhere with no friends, no cash, and no real work skills. I'm not much of an entertainer, and mercy knows I don't know how to farm or smith or anything like that.

I mean, I'm not expecting a dental plan or paid sick leave, but my upbringing didn't really prepare me for a career search in a weird, mixed medieval/mid-industrial world. And finding a job wasn't going to be easy in the first place for an almost-convict. It's not like I've got a prisoner brand on my arm or anything, but if anyone asks why I'm so far away from any other Lost, my explanation isn't going to be great, and I'm not a good liar.

My only real selling skill is plumbing, unfortunately. Dad was the local wrench jockey back home, and guess who got cheap labor out of his teenage son, claiming that dismantling sinks and toilets for two bucks an hour 'built character'? The only thing it built was my desire to get out of that town. Trust me, there is no glamour in being the kid who has to help his dad unclog pipes on the weekend.

Of course, it just so happens that knowing my way around pipes helped me survive. Apparently what the villages down in the southeastern side of the country are known for are their hot springs. There's this place east of here called Yukumo that's really popular with hunters in particular, and quite a few villages have at least one small spring that the locals use.

Well, the village I was in at the time had a few pipes burst, and nobody really had any idea how to fix it. The guy that usually repaired the stuff had retired and moved to the other side of the country, and they hadn't had time to hire a replacement yet, so their only other option was to call a repairman from one of the other villages in the area.

I was passing by at the time, and made an offhand comment about their design, and apparently that was all the information they needed to rope me into helping. I tried to refuse, but then they offered to pay me. I wasn't sure if the price they offered was fair - I'm still trying to figure out how valuable goods and services are here - but considering all I had in my pockets were lint and a few random knick knacks from back home, I really couldn't refuse. It didn't help that my hands were itching when they tried to rope me into this whole thing.

Oh, right, maybe I should write about this. I don't really know much about this 'Lost madness' thing, but apparently I've got it. It's like, if I see something that's broken, my hands get itchy, and they don't stop itching until it's fixed, or until I fix something. It's weird, like I can't stand to see things that don't work. I mean, it's not cruel to me, thankfully. It doesn't start itching if it's something that I can't fix. If I see a broken stone bridge, my hands aren't going to bother me until I build a new bridge. If I see a broken sword, I'm not doomed to suffer until I learn forge work and repair it myself.

But it can get bad. I have an old pocket watch my grandpa gave me, this old clinker that my great-grandpa used to own, the type you need to wind to keep it ticking. Back in Loc Lac I decided to stop winding it, just to see what happened. Soon as the watch stopped ticking, my hands started itching, telling me to wind it. I ignored them, but the longer I put it off, the more it itched. I managed to last a little over a day before I couldn't take it anymore. My hands felt like there were needles stabbing into them, and I'd scratched them until my hands were red and raw. I think I broke down crying once or twice. My neighbors thought I was crazy, which admittedly, I probably am. When I couldn't take it anymore, I finally wound it again, and the itching vanished, like it'd never been there in the first place. Left me with red and swollen hands though, which I needed to see a doctor about.

So, yeah, soon as I saw the broken pipes and my hands started itching, I was probably doomed from the start. At least I was able to get them to pay me for my services. I had them throw in free meals and board while I was working there, and we had a deal.

The itching isn't an issue when I'm working, thankfully, because it took about a week to fix their system. It's not too bad if I'm working to fix something, just kind of like an ache that forces me to keep working. At least it allows me to eat and sleep. I needed a couple days just to figure out how everything worked. After years working with dad, I could tell their system was kinda archaic, but I managed to cobble everything together and get them back in business. Nero (the innkeeper) was very grateful, and offered me a full-time job at the springs, repairing piping around town. Again, I wanted to refuse, but a week's worth of pay wasn't exactly enough that I could retire to the Caymans, and since I still didn't understand the value of the zenny they'd paid me, I wasn't sure whether or not they'd given me enough to keep trekking around in search of a better place to live.

So I took the job, and now, three months later, I'm still here, making sure all the piping is working properly. My dad must be laughing in his grave right now. Or I assume he's in his grave. Again, the whole Lost thing complicates things.

I guess it's not all bad. The pay's actually pretty good for what I'm doing, now that I've got a better understanding of its value. The work isn't too hard either, and the locals think I'm some sort of engineering genius (which I'm not, but I'll let them think what they want as long as it means they keep paying me). I also get go into the springs for free, which is a nice luxury. I probably have enough money to get to the other side of the country if I wanted to (Tanzia seems like a pretty interesting city), but at the moment I'm at least content with the way things are.

Might as well describe the place. Right now, I live in a place called Corel Village, in a little hut down the hill from the inn. Corel's bigger than it sounds, large enough to be called a 'town' and not a 'village' like the name implies. It's an out-of-the-way place in the south-eastern mountains of Theron, or at least the locals tell me it's out of the way. I can't really say otherwise, since I haven't really been to that many other places other than here and Loc Lac.

The local specialty of Corel is, you guessed it, hot springs. The main inn has quite a few soaking pools spread out over a couple acres, making it one of the bigger springs in the area. That Yukumo place is supposed to be the biggest and best hot spring town in the country, but it caters more towards hunters. Corel's mostly a resort for civilian tourists, and a lot of their business comes from passing travelers. Needless to say, there was some real worry about the piping breaking before I got things fixed.

I guess I can talk to the people I know here while I'm at it. My best friend (I think I've mentioned him before) is a guy named Auru Arcadian. He's the guy that first asked for my help in fixing the piping near the springs, and eventually the one that convinced me to stick around after that. You'd think that'd have made him my enemy, all things considered, but he's a good guy, and it's kind of hard not to like him.

He's lived in Corel for his whole life, and for good reason too: he's the chief of the village. Or he pretty much is. His old man's still technically the chief, but really in name only from what I've seen. Auru takes care of all the duties himself. Really smart too, because people are always going to him for advice. Maybe 'wise' is the right word? He's the one that acts as the village representative when emissaries are passing through, and he heads off to all the yearly conference between all villages in the area. So, yeah, when you ask who the chief of Corel Village is, it's Auru.

He's pretty interested in Lost stuff, and asks me about my old civilization sometimes, though I really can't offer him that much. I can tell him stories about life back home, and give him vague descriptions about how certain machines worked, but I'm really not the guy to talk to about those kinds of things. My specialty is in pipes and pumps (loathe as I am to admit it), but anything else is out of my expertise.

Though I have been teaching him Morse code. My old man was a war buff back in the day, and made me learn Morse in case of an emergency. I think the emergencies he expected were more along the lines of thermonuclear winter or a zombie outbreak, not whatever this future is. There aren't any radios around anymore, or at least I haven't seen any, so Morse is a little pointless if you're only using it to talk to someone who's three feet away from you. Auru likes it though, and he's a smart guy. Maybe he'll figure out some use for it that I can't. Maybe I should teach him semaphore when he's figured Morse out.

Did I mention he's Wyverian? He's Wyverian. Big guy, like six and a half feet tall. Pointy ears, sharp nose, scaly legs, the whole shebang. All that, and I think he's something like thirty years old at the most. Maybe. Wyvernians are supposed to live a really long time, so maybe he's in his sixties or something. He certainly talks like an old fogey, so I guess it's possible.

But we spend a lot of time hanging out together. I'm not really sure why. He's the leader of the village and I'm the guy that fixes the pipes. Quite the odd couple, to see us hanging out. But he's a nice guy, and has really done a lot to help me become a part of the village. He's actually the one that got me writing in this dia- journal. He says it's a good idea to write down your thoughts, says that it helps you remember things better, like the little details and the subtle signals and stuff. Not sure how much of that is true, but he got me this journal, so I should at least use it.

Next up are the girls running the hunters' goods store, Liz and Patty-

Okay, this is getting a little long. I'm taking a look back at what I've written, and it's a mess. I don't know why Auru thinks this'll be good for me. Maybe I'll tear out the first few pages and start fresh tomorrow, or whenever I do this again.

If not, goodbye for now. Signing off. Whatever.

 _Jacob_

Am I supposed to sign these at the end?

* * *

August 1

Okay, it's been a while. Sorry. I don't know who I'm apologizing to. The dia- The journal or myself. I've kind of been feeling bad that I haven't been doing this, since I told Auru I'd give it a shot. But we've been preparing for a pretty big event in town the last couple days. I figured that kind of thing was reason enough for me to get back into the swing of this journal thing.

Now, festivals aren't too uncommon in Corel, not really. I've been here for five months and we've already had three. There's the spring festival, the harvest festival, the equinox festivals, yada yada the list goes on. But a few days back, Auru told the village that a very important person called 'Lady Yeta' would be visiting Corel, and that we needed to be ready to welcome her.

Apparently she's the priestess from a nearby temple, making her rounds between the villages of the area to offer her blessings to those that live in the region. I didn't really understand the appeal (still don't for that matter), since I've never been a very spiritual person and I hadn't even known that there was a temple in the area, but the rest of the town got fired up and started preparing the village for her arrival.

Anyway, I ask around a bit, and old woman Josie sat me down and told me Yeta's the priestess of Mount Ataraxia, some huge peak off to the east of here. She does all the standard fare, blessings and prayer and a life of relative purity, acting as emissary to whatever gods or spirits this area believes in. Maybe she does exorcisms and stuff too, who knows. I asked what made her so special, and apparently most of her holiness is due to Mount Ataraxia, which is considered holy ground for the sole fact that any monsters that come to live within the borders are almost completely docile.

I had to ask twice about that bit, just to make sure I heard right. Monsters that live on that mountain aren't a threat to humans. They live in complete peace with each other, and pose next to no danger to human civilization as we know it at all. At least, they don't when they're on the mountain.

But there are exceptions, apparently. You can't just find a random monster hanging out in the forest, strap a saddle to it, and expect to ride off into the sunset. You'd get bucked off and trampled. If you're a hunter and you think you can just gank the first monster you see and it won't fight back, you're in for a world of hurt. And if a Rathalos and Rathian live on the mountain and get hungry, and some there's some Kelbi hanging out near their nest, then it's venison for dinner. But there's no territory disputes or anything between the larger monsters, no battles for dominance. Apparently you can walk around and see monsters just hanging out peacefully around each other. They say humans can even approach the most dangerous beasts without fear of harm, and Priestess Yeta herself had physically touched every living creature on the mountain.

It's supposed to be the blessing of some local god. The spirit of tranquility and inner peace is supposed to have claimed the land as his or her territory, and all living creatures that dwell in its domain are 'washed clean of hatred and aggression'. I don't know that I believe that sort of thing, myself, but I asked Auru about it later and he said he's been there himself and touched the fur of a living Arzuros, and the creature didn't attack him. Auru isn't a liar, as far as I know, so I guess the stories are at least a little bit true.

Anyway, because of those effects, the locals consider the mountain a holy ground and hunting anything within the shadow of the mountain is completely forbidden, despite the number of large monsters that call the place home. They've got an agreement with the Guild and everything. Hunters are barely allowed in the area, much less given the opportunity to kill or capture anything.

It's all very interesting, but I'll maintain a healthy dose of skepticism about the stories. Maybe it's something in the water? I should probably make sure I don't say things like in front of the priestess or anyone else in the area. Josie certainly drilled it into my head that I needed to be extra polite and courteous if I ever spoke to her.

Back to the village. I've heard that the streets are being lined up and decorated, so this girl's visit is going to be turned into a proper festival. I figure the villagers just want an excuse to have a big party. Or maybe the priestess' arrival means more business. Or hell, maybe they just revere her that much. I'm not really sure which is more likely. Could be any of them, honestly.

I can't really say I've seen any of the decorations, though. I've been working overtime making sure all the hot spring equipment is in prime condition. There was a pretty nasty pipe burst when one of the Felynes ran a boiler too hot and blew a gasket through one of the walls of the bathhouse. Launched it with enough power to tear a hole through the roof of Jack's produce shop and embed itself in a support pillar of one of the guard towers down the hill. That was a delight to fix. Thankfully I only had to deal the boiler itself. The rest of the crap was someone else's problem.

There was supposed to be a welcoming party and gathering for the priestess in the village square when she arrived, but by the time

Sorry, fell asleep at my desk. I was too knackered to go to last night's welcoming party. Fixing the boiler was exhausting.

Still pretty tired. I'm gonna sleep in a little and then see what's going on in town in the morning. I guess they'll wake me up if something breaks.

* * *

August 2

It's really late at night right now, but I feel the need to write in this diary. My day's been pretty interesting, if not a little hectic near the end. Nearly got my arm broken by a very angry woman, and I didn't even do anything wrong!

The day started off nice enough. It was nearly midday before I managed to drag my hide out of bed and stumble out into town. I ran into Patty and Liz at the fletcher's, and they told me I missed the priestess coming into town late last night, though it wasn't that big a deal. Apparently she entered town so quietly that people barely realized that she'd arrived. I thought she'd come into town with some majestic procession, but all she came riding in on was an old carriage drawn by a couple Popos. I saw the thing sitting by the inn myself: it wasn't fancy, no special colors or symbols, just plain Yukumo timber with a bit of green paint on it. I guess people might not have realized she'd even arrived were it not for her entourage. She had several guards and a couple, I don't know, hand servants or something with her. A pretty small group for someone with her position, maybe. I don't know.

A lot of the locals and tourists went up to talk to Yeta during the day. She was set up on some elevated platform and people were already lined up to speak with her and get blessings or whatever when I woke up. I only really saw her from a distance though, so I could never get a good look at her, at least not during the day.

But like I said, the priestess didn't really matter to me. The entire central square was decorated, food stalls were set up, lanterns were lit, and everyone was out about town, and for the first time since I came to Corel, I actually got to enjoy the festival! Usually when there's some sort of party in town, something breaks, or someone breaks something, and it's up to me to fix it. Not today though; all of the pipes and pumps managed to hold out all day, which means I essentially got the day off. Finally got a chance to try that Dragon Head meat they sell. It's always gone by the time I have a chance to buy some.

I wanted to hang out with Auru while I had some time off, but he spent the day up at the main inn and bath house, where Yeta and her groupies were staying. Guess that's the duty of the chief. Thankfully, Patty and Liz were open to explore the village with me, so I wasn't wandering around by myself like a complete loser.

Now, I did have a lot of fun at the festival, but while I got most of the day off, I did have to check up on everything at the springs as evening rolled around. Visitors really pick up as the sun goes down, so I usually have to keep an eye on the pumps around then to make sure nothing gets overworked.

I made my way up to the main inn where the priestess is set up, and I'd been hoping to get a look in passing, but I guess the girl was off in one of the private baths. The only person I saw was this one woman with her who was apparently the captain of her guards, named Ashei, standing guard outside the changing rooms. Scary-looking girl. She had this dark, piercing stare that felt like it could bore holes through stone. It seemed like if she ever looked at you, she was sizing you up, figuring out the best five ways to kill you if you turned out to be a threat. Gotta admit though, it was kind of insulting that she only looked at me for like half a second when she saw me, before staring at that old crone that runs the fabric shop for five or six seconds.

Who am I kidding, I could probably be overpowered by a Poogie with leprosy. Half a second's generous.

Well, I wasn't just gonna hang around and wait for her just to get a look, so I head off to the boiler room to make sure things are working fine. They all seemed shipshape for the most part, though one of the boilers was running a little hot again, and we do not need another hole in the wall. I need to make a note to tell Rata and Tosker to use less coal.

But as I'm finishing up my last few checks and I'm cleaning myself off, I hear footsteps behind me, and before I can think about it I get slammed to the ground! I barely even knew what hit me, and I'm eating dirt with my arm twisted behind my back and feeling like it was gonna snap in two, with someone's knee digging into my back! It takes me a second or two just to register what's going on, and the next thing I hear is someone shouting at me and accusing me of being a peeping Tom! I look back and it's Ashei, spitting venom and cursing at me for trying to ogle the priestess herself in the bath!

Now, here's the thing: I know this place inside and out by now. I know that the machine room is right next to the private baths. I know the only thing keeping me from getting an unadulterated view of whoever is in the baths at the time is a fairly thin wooden wall. I know that it wouldn't be hard to cut a hole in the wall and get my jollies ogling women. I know that!

I know that because that's what the last mechanic did. I know that he got caught and chased out of town by all the angry women, and that's why he lives on the other side of the country these days. "Retirement" my ass! I also know that most of the women in this town could pop my head off and use it as a tetherball, and some of them run much faster than I can. There are only a couple things in this world I'd be willing to die for, and a little T&A isn't one of them.

Well, I try to make my argument, but Ashei isn't having any of it, and the next thing I know I'm being hauled through the inn, and she's swearing I'm going to make sure I suffer the full weight of the law, and so on and so on. And I'm panicking, because I've already had one close call with prison time and I really do not need another, but thankfully the first person we ran into was Auru.

Now, as I've said, I'm not a spiritual man by any stretch of the imagination, but I send my praises up to whatever being had the courtesy to make Auru my best friend in this village. Hell, I'll send a grateful nod to the 'god of tranquility' on Ataraxia if he's the one responsible, even if one of his devotees could use an extra dose of that famed tranquility.

So this girl goes off for a while when we meet Auru, I guess thinking that the village chief of all people would be willing to dole out some punishment, but Auru comes to my aid, explaining that I was the inn's mechanic, and that I was supposed to be here. Ashei was kind of flabbergasted. I guess I look kind of young for the 'head mechanic' of the hot springs. Guess she thought that of course the healthy young man is slinking around the private baths for less than savory reasons. Can't really fault her logic, honestly, but I'm still a little spiteful.

Now, thankfully, Ashei was positively mortified at her mistake. Or, at least, I think she was; her face was really hard to read. At the very least she apologized to me a whole lot for accusing me. I was tempted to be a bit of an asshole about the whole thing, but I really didn't want to start something with a woman that had put me in an armlock before I could blink, so I brushed it off and asked her to just leave me alone so I could finish my work and go back to the festival. I think Auru was a little proud of me for being so diplomatic about the whole thing, even if I didn't exactly say things very politely. She agreed, thankfully, and let me go on my way.

But that's not the end of it. I keep going with my work, maybe a little slower than usual thanks to my sore arm. Auru comes to check up on me after a little while, and I tell him I'm fine and send him off to do his village chief stuff. I'm making decent time and planning to head back down to the village proper when someone walks up behind me. Now, my nerves are already a little fired up from my last encounter with someone creeping up on me, and the second I hear footsteps I spin around like I'm gonna be knifed.

It wasn't Auru, and thankfully it wasn't Ashei. No, it was Yeta herself. And holy crap, she was pretty.

I don't say that lightly. I had this sort of mental image of what a priestess would look like when I first heard about her, and she really fit the bill. About as tall as me, straight black hair down to her thighs, dark brown eyes, curved face. She was even wearing those Japanese-looking clothes that they give the guests here at the inn (I can't remember what they're called). Really looked the part. There aren't many girls like her in Corel, that's for sure.

I guess she must have gotten the story about what happened from Auru or Ashei, because the next thing I know she's bowing and apologizing personally for the actions of her guard, and hoping I can find it in me to forgive her. Honestly, the whole thing made me feel really awkward, someone like her apologizing so profusely to me. I tried to brush it off and pretend like it wasn't a big deal, but she wasn't taking it and insisted she make it up to me. I guess she takes all this stuff just as seriously as Ashei does.

Somehow or another, I was once again too caught up in the flow to really get myself out of the whole situation, and before I know what's going on, Yeta's essentially roped me into joining her for dinner as a way to apologize, dragging me back to her room. It was a pretty awkward situation at first, if only because Ashei was sitting in the corner of the room and giving me this level look, which had me on edge for most of the evening.

But the food that the village offered her while she was staying at the inn was WAY beyond my pay grade, and I rarely get to eat anything that's really fancy so I wasn't going to miss my chance, especially since the Dragon Head meat by itself killed my budget for the next month or so. I've learned I'm not that fond of caviar, at least.

Also, I can't help but wonder if the 'Blessed Wine' is actually blessed or if it's just a name? Is it polite to serve something that's called 'Blessed' to a priestess, if it isn't actually blessed?

At least the conversation was pleasant. Yeta and I spent most of the dinner talking with each other. She seemed genuinely interested in what I did, though I can't imagine why. Also, she had a pretty big interest in Lost culture. She said she'd been reading a lot of the books and novels that have been reprinted in the last couple years, and really enjoyed going to see the plays based on old Lost movies and TV shows. Apparently the theater in Yukumo's been doing stage shows of the original Star Wars trilogy, and episode 5 is set to have their opening night in a couple months.

I admit, I was somewhat tempted to spoil the ending for Yeta, just to see her reaction, but I just didn't have the heart. The girl said she was utterly devastated when Obi-Wan died, just imagine what kind of reaction she'd have to that. I kind of want to go and see the shock on the faces of the locals for the 'I am your father' bit near the end.

The director must just love having an untainted audience though; Yeta said they're planning shows of The Sixth Sense, Fight Club, and Planet of the Apes. Guy's got a real line up ready, though I can't imagine how he's gonna pull some of those off.

For that matter, how did he do a Star Wars stage show in the first place? Creative stage props? Maybe I should visit Yukumo when I've got some time off and check it out myself.

Anyway, somehow I spent something close to four whole hours talking to Yeta. Really lost track of time. I guess it was just sort of comfortable, being able to talk about things I used to love like I was back home in Ohio. Books, stories, movies - or stage shows, I guess. I think we spent about thirty minutes just going over what we thought of Lost music. Yeta had this excitable joy when she was talking about all this stuff. I wonder if I acted like that when I read those books for the first time, or heard a new song, or saw a new movie or show. It was nice finding someone that I could really relate to, even if only a little bit.

Before I knew it, it was well past midnight, and Ashei started making less-than-subtle hints that I should see myself out. Yeta didn't seem too pleased with her chasing me out, but I really didn't like the look she was giving me either. I guess Ashei's a little overprotective of the priestess. As much as I liked talking with Yeta though, I really didn't feel like making Ashei miffed, so I said I was tired and I was ready to head home. I thanked them as politely as I could before taking off and coming back to my house.

If nothing else, I guess I can see why people like Yeta so much. At least personally. I still don't know anything about this magic mountain or whatever, but the girl herself is a pretty nice person.

Usually I'm really tired after a long day like today, but tonight I'm wide awake. I wonder why.

* * *

August 12 -

I feel like an idiot. It's been over a week since Priestess Yeta left Corel, and the villagers have been giving me hell about it ever since. I caught a bit of a stomach virus after Yeta and her group left the village. Too much food from the festival, probably. Maybe that Dragon Head meat doesn't agree with me, or that caviar I had. But apparently someone saw me talking to Yeta during the festival and thought my absence meant I was heartbroken, and now the entire village thinks I'm a lovestruck sop with hearts in his eyes over a girl he talked to for a few hours.

I need to figure out who started this rumor. Auru's been looking a bit guilty recently, so I'm pretty sure I know who the culprit is.

* * *

August 22

Note to self: NEVER LET PATTY TRY AND SHOOT AN APPLE OFF YOUR HEAD.

Also, avoid drinking with her and Liz at all costs.

Also, don't drink any more Goldenfish Brew. That stuff is dangerous. Maybe avoid Wyverian whiskey while I'm at it. My memory gets a little hazy after the first couple shots of that. For that matter, maybe I should give up drinking entirely if last night is going to be any sort of standard.

Also, refrain from telling Lost tall tales from here on in. If William Tell can cause this kind of mess, I shudder to think what sort of chaos stories like Paul Bunyan could cause. Patty would probably try and go out and tame herself a big blue Popo or something.

At least I learned that Auru is a funny drunk. I don't know who taught him about 'your mom' jokes, but sweet mercy he was slinging them left and right! I hope he doesn't remember last night. That'll make tomorrow morning so much more fun. I've never seen a Wyverian blush before.

* * *

August 28

I'm going to kill someone. Some wandering Lost busker put on a show out in front of the inn yesterday looking for loose change. Said he wanted to become a Therian music sensation. You see people like that every now and then, trying to make a buck off of old Lost tunes.

But he specialized in country music of all things! I HATE country music! My dad and uncle listened to it all the damn time! I thought I escaped it! And now half the village is humming the lyrics to a bunch of crappy songs that were on the radio back in our time! Dammit! The next time that guy tries to pass through the village, I'm breaking his guitar.

At the very least, Auru and Patty both seem to dislike that garbage as much as I do. I knew they were good people. Tosker apparently loved it though, and sings it all the damn time, which is not fun with his high-pitched yowling. Felynes are not made for singing.

Could be worse, I guess. Could be disco.

* * *

September 9

Corel had another famous visitor today. This one arrived by surprise, unlike Priestess Yeta, but with much more fanfare and prestige. His name is Doctor Dante Welsh, and he's apparently a well-known researcher, at least as far as researchers can be. I mean, I've heard a lot of weird rumors about crazy experiments and scientists and stuff out in the western side of Theron and up in Loc Lac, but nothing around these parts.

Dr. Dante is a pretty big name in this country though. He was the one to discover how to use airweed to make air filters (philters? They're spelled funny on the packaging) which lets hunters fight monsters that can swim. I guess that one invention by itself revolutionized hunting in this country sixty years ago, especially in the wetlands and along the coast, where wounded monsters could escape just by jumping into a river or the sea. That's not all though. He also upgraded ancient ballistae to act as a match against Jhen Mohran out in the desert, improved shock traps to make them more potent than before, and is said to have had a strong hand in the development of the hunter's weapon called the switch axe. All that, and apparently he's done extensive research into monster biology and ecosystems, and has aided the Guild in understanding the movements of monsters in the country. There's even talk that the Guild's called on him to do research into the remains of the Alatreon itself.

I mean, he must be pretty impressive to have done all that. That's all the stuff I picked up just talking to the other villagers and hunters in Corel, and probably isn't half of what he's accomplished.

He arrived at the village sometime yesterday evening, as I said, without warning. Unlike Yeta, he came into town with a lot of fanfare. He rode in with a long convoy of seven carriages, all of them being quite elaborate and brightly colored. Red paint, golden trim, the whole shebang. He even had a troupe of four hunters with him as personal guards too. Kind of gaudy in my opinion, but the other villagers were pretty impressed by it all.

Some of the wagons had a few tagalongs riding in them. They looked mostly like regular folks, except for a couple hermit-looking guys in the back wagon that were covered in dirt and jibbering like a couple of loons. They had this big old box filled with like forty mixed mushrooms, for who knows what. I know hunters in this time use mushrooms for a whole bunch of things, but these were all sorts of colors, and sure as hell weren't portobellos. I kept my distance from them. I'm crazy enough without the extra help.

Anyway, when the old guy rolls into town, the first thing he does is start asking around for people with 'special characteristics' or something like that. From what I gathered, he was on a big research expedition for 'unique individuals', or people that have some rare knowledge. Apparently a couple of the tagalongs in his caravan are smiths that know some good forging technique, and the goons with the mushrooms can eat them with no negative effects. Though, considering how out of it they act, I'm not so sure about their credentials.

So that's what Doctor Dante starts doing as soon as he's gotten himself a room at the inn: asking around in search of special or learned people. Patty showed off that she could reload a bowgun really, stupidly fast, but that didn't impress the doc. One of the local hunters (I think his name's Coro) said that he could attack a monster and never have his dual blades deflect off the harder scales, but apparently that's not too uncommon a skill for hunters to have.

After that, though, there wasn't really anyone impressive, and it pretty quickly became what felt like a hokey talent show full of bogus, unprovable claims. Josie tried to catch his attention by saying that her bones ached when it was going to rain, but old people have been complaining about that kind of crap since before I was born. George claimed that he could eat meat raw and it would give him the energy of a dash juice, but that didn't take either. And Tosker claimed on his honor that he had the ability to 'detect' the exact location of monsters, as well as what type of monster it is and whether or not it's sleeping or not. I don't think anyone bought that one.

Well, the only real 'special ability' I have is my Lost madness, and I try not to advertise that. It's not really much of an ability in the first place, and just makes life difficult for me. So I kept to myself and let the rest of the village try their hand at catching the doc's attention.

On a side note, Rata made an interesting acquisition for the springs. Apparently one of his cousins works in Frost Town, and has access to a unique type of coal that you can only find in the volcano itself, and he managed to get hold of a few boxes worth of the stuff. It's supposed to stay hot for DAYS, if the stories are true, and some of the more expensive stuff can last for WEEKS. If we can get a supply of that coal, we could probably reduce maintenance time and coal costs by quite a bit. That means we could keep things running with a fraction of the effort. Work smarter, not harder and all that.

We'll be doing a test run on one of the smaller boilers tomorrow morning.

I wonder if that'll cut into my paycheck if it works?

* * *

September 10

Well, I'm alive. I feel like that's not something that should have to be clarified at the start of a diary entry, but after today, I can't help but feel like it's something worth noting.

The coal was certainly unique, I'll give Rata that much, but in that it was less coal and more along the lines of a small explosive. Apparently Rata's cousin mixed up the order or something, and sent us 'volatile coal', which really just fits its name, doesn't it? Honestly, I should have been tipped off by how hot the coals were, even before we set the damn things on fire. But hey, this is a country where building supports are made using the bones of colossal monsters, flame sacs from fire-breathing dragons are used as makeshift kerosene lighters, and hunters wield weapons with pure elemental energy inside glass bottles.

Mysterious hot rock is a super-potent and long-lasting coal? Sure! Why not! Or no, it's actually an explosive? Fine! I'm not even surprised. Makes as much sense as anything else at this point.

Anyway, to make a long story short, there a new hole in the side of the machine room and I need to rebuild another boiler. That's two in the last month. Hopefully that doesn't reflect too badly on my performance as mechanic, though the first one wasn't my fault!

Also, I need to stay awake tonight to make sure I don't have a concussion. At least Patty volunteered to stop by and keep me company overnight.

A launched piece of metal may or may not have taken out the axle of one of Doc Dante's wagons as well, forcing him to stick around in town for another couple days for repairs. That'll probably come back to bite me in the ass sooner or later, but it's not like I'm trying to impress him or anything. Auru gave me a lecture though.

I suppose this gives me reason enough to try and rework the system to make it a little more efficient. I've been meaning to add a few extra valves and maybe an expansion tank to the system to keep this kind of thing from happening again. Maybe I can rig up a pressure relief valve while I'm at it? I'll need to speak with Linus about forging me something that'll work along those lines. And a bypass with a filter! The minerals in these springs are KILLING me with all the buildup in the fittings.

In the meantime, I'll need to get creative with pipe routing to make sure business doesn't take too heavy a hit from all this. Old Nero was telling me that the next big fad in Yukumo is hot spring foot baths or something along those lines, so maybe I can work with that? Maybe we can have a public foot bath with shallow water out front of the building, charge folks a fraction of the price to soak their feet? Eh, I'll ask Nero about it in the morning. We'll figure something out.

It occurs to me that I'm getting way too comfortable with this occupation. Lovely. If my father had a grave, I would piss on it.

No, I wouldn't. That's going too far.

But I would pour out a bottle of cheap vodka on it. He could never stand the stuff.

* * *

September 12

It seems that my father continues to mock me from the great beyond.

It's been a couple days, and I managed to finish the temporary repairs on the system sometime yesterday afternoon. I can't really do much more at the moment, not until Linus finishes molding me some more parts, but I managed to reroute one of the smaller pipes to a small pool near the front of the property and turned it into a foot bath like we talked about. The locals are a little uncertain about it, but the travelers in the inn seem to enjoy the luxury. Nero thinks it has promise. We'll see how it goes.

The boiler is less exploded than it was two days ago, and is almost in one piece again, if not functional yet. With luck, my improvements will drop the chances of me dying in an explosion from 9% down to about 3%, which, hey, is better than nothing. I mean, better than no adjustment, not a nothing-percent chance, because that would be glorious.

Who am I trying to explain this to?

Hell with it. Short version: things are being improved, and my job's a little safer. It's not like my job entails survival odds on par with hunters or anything, but these old boilers are finicky devils, and I'd rather not risk my bacon if I can avoid it. I mean, I'm not aiming for OSHA compliance or anything (any inspector would have an aneurysm if they saw the kind of crap people cobble together in this time) but all improvements are appreciated.

I wonder if I should try to introduce the idea of 'workman's comp' to Nero? Actually, better wait until I've been working here at least a year before I try to blow his mind with higher health and safety standards.

Aren't potions like over-the-counter morphine mixed with antibiotics? They're like the equivalent of five bucks, too. Maybe I shouldn't complain about the healthcare situation in Theron too much.

Anyway, after two days of hard repair work, I finally slogged back to my hut for some well-deserved sleep. I mean, the work's only on hold until I have the materials to keep working, but hey, a break's a break.

Thing is, as soon as I'm back to my hut and about to conk out for a solid ten hours or so, there was a knock at my door. I was half tempted to come at whoever was there with a wrench and chase them off, but thankfully I decided against that route. The need to do that is more common than you think, especially since Patty's been trying to drag me to the bar again on my every free night.

To my surprise, it was Doctor Dante himself, with Auru right behind him. And the four thugs/hunters that were acting as the guy's guards. Really glad I didn't come out swinging.

Now, right out of the gate the doc starts talking, and between my sleepiness and two days of work, it took me a little bit to really register what he was saying. It didn't help that he was using more technobabble and sci-fi lingo than I'm really familiar with. After about thirty seconds, I finally figure out that he's questioning me about the plumbing system I've got set up at the springs, wondering where I got the idea for the design. So I kind of give a vague explanation about my upbringing and about how I learned about plumbing from my father, and I guess I start rambling about pumps and valves and stuff like that, but I'm dead on my feet so I'm sure that my explanation is about as clear as mud.

Then he asked me if I wanted to accompany him to his laboratory in Loc Lac so he could use my 'expertise' to drastically improve the water situation there. That woke me up.

I imagine I had a pretty stupid look on my face at the time, but I guess the old guy was caught up in his own tangent then, explaining his motives. The city of Loc Lac has a natural oasis near the center of the city which supplies a lot of water to the people that live there, but it's not enough by itself, not for what used to be the largest city in the country. There are a lot of pumps and pipes that pull water from the aquifer underground, and they need to be kept running almost constantly to meet demand. Breakdowns and damage are a constant worry, and a lot of work is going into improving the efficiency so the water keeps flowing.

Apparently a city in the desert always has a bunch of issues when it comes to keeping its populace hydrated. Who knew?

Doc Dante said that demand's gone down a bit since the Alatreon attack killed a lot of people, but a lot of the pumps were damaged during the attack as well, and the quick replacements aren't really holding up. They need better equipment and systems to keep things from breaking down so the city can keep a consistent supply of water being drawn up from underground. That's where I apparently come in. My 'Lost expertise' may offer the city some method for improving the system, to keep people from going thirsty. I may be able to offer some insights that could help save a lot of lives.

At least that's what Dante thought. I thought he was overestimating my abilities, and told him as much. He seemed disappointed, but told me to think on it. He said he'd stick around in Corel for a few days while I finished fixing the boiler, and if I changed my mind, I could join him and the others in the caravan when he left.

After that he went back to the inn, and his guards followed him, leaving me alone with Auru. I asked him what he thought about the whole thing. He seemed uncertain, but told me that if I really did have the knowledge to improve things in Loc Lac, I could help a lot of people. He didn't sound really happy about the idea though. I'm not either, really. I mean, I know my goal at the start was to get enough money to leave this town, right?

But-

I'm tired. I'm going to bed.

* * *

September 14

Boiler's fixed now, for the most part. I've added the valves and stuff I mentioned before, and everything seems to be in working order. I want to wait a week or so to make sure that I didn't mess anything up, but so far there aren't any problems.

Word's got out about Dante's offer, and a lot of the other villagers are pestering me about whether or not I'm going to take him up on it. Some of them are kind of excited at the prospect, thinking that it'd be great if someone from their village were able to help the great and mighty Dante with his work. Kind of odd thinking, especially since I haven't even lived in Corel for a full year yet. I don't think people really realize that if I take the guy up on the offer, I might not come back. I guess Auru hasn't really told people that part of the story. I certainly haven't felt like talking about it.

It doesn't help that the doc's been coming to speak to me whenever he can to try and convince me to join him. And it also doesn't help that he's actually a pretty decent guy. He came to watch me while I was fixing the boiler, and for a little while he didn't really say anything and just observed my work. It got kind of awkward after a while, so I asked him about some of the other projects he was working on at the time.

It was a little hard to understand him past all the technobabble, but he's definitely a guy who really loves his work. That much is obvious. He's pretty old, and his face gets really serious when it comes to talking about his experiments and research, but his eyes light up like he's a kid talking about a new toy or his favorite game. He was prattling on for almost a full hour, talking about his experiments, things like trying to build a better shock trap, improving antidotes, experimenting with leaf crystals and powders (which sounds like some kind of drug to me), and something about a smoke bomb/teleporter (not sure what that was all about).

And that's just the hunting related stuff. The water situation in Loc Lac is one of the basic welfare things he's working on as well. Dante is really dedicated to improving and preserving human life through the country. I remember thinking he wasn't really that big of a deal when he first showed up in Corel, but now I'm beginning to understand why people revere him so much. I'm beginning to actually want to go with him and help him out.

Auru told me that, if I choose to go to Loc Lac, we've gotten word from Yukumo that an apprentice mechanic is willing to come and take my place. Rata and Tosker have been picking up my knowledge ever since I've started working here too, so the new guy won't be completely baffled when he shows up. I realize that a few of the things I've installed here are a bit against the norm to how people usually install things. So things will keep plugging along even if I leave. I guess that's good.

It's supposed to be good. But I don't like it.

I need to give Dante an answer soon. If I don't go, I'm wasting his time by keeping him here. If I do go, then I need to let Auru know so he can send a letter to my replacement.

I could use a drink right now.

* * *

September 15

I've decided. I'm going to join Dante on his trip to Loc Lac. I'm going to try and help out to fix and improve the pumps and get the water situation repaired.

I don't know how long it's going to take though. Maybe it'll only be a couple weeks. Or months. Maybe it'll be years.

Maybe when I get there, I won't know jack, and they'll boot me out. I don't know.

I want to come back to Corel after I'm done though. I like the people here. I like my job, much as I hate to admit it. I like my friends.

But what if it really does take years? What if my knowledge can really help a lot of people, but I need to stay in Loc Lac for the rest of my life just to implement everything and keep everything running?

I don't know. I just want to come back one day.

Auru gave me a gift: a sword and shield he'd inherited from his father, made from some Tundra saber-tooth monster. I tried not to accept it, not some heirloom that belonged to him, but he insisted. He wanted me to use it to protect myself if there was trouble on the road. I still didn't like it, but I eventually accepted, if only so I'd have something to remember him and everyone else in the village by. Maybe I can find someone to teach me how to use a sword. One of the others in Dante's caravan is a weapon smith. Maybe she can teach me a couple things.

Anyway, Auru promised he'd write. The Felyne mail service is super fast, so it'll only be a couple days between letters. That way I can keep in touch. I told Rata and Tosker to write me if something goes wrong and I'd try to reply as quick as I could. Auru said the villagers going to throw me a going-away party. I don't really want them to.

Josie gave me a scarf for the journey. Kind of useless, considering I'm traveling to a desert city, but I still appreciated it. I guess it will keep the sand out of my mouth, if nothing else.

Liz and Patty said they'd make a big cake, though I'm pretty sure neither of them can cook so who knows how that'll turn out. I think they were planning to use Linus' forge to bake it. Liz was proud of me and congratulated me on moving up in the world, but Patty was crying a bit when I told them. She promised that she'd come visit me in Loc Lac when I got settled in. We'd been getting pretty close the last couple months, and I kind of thought we might-

I'm gonna miss them both. I'm gonna miss everyone.

I've got to get ready. I need to pack.

I'll do it tomorrow.

* * *

September 18

Just writing in this diary one last time before I take off for Loc Lac. All my stuff's packed and ready, and all I need to put away is this diary. I'm probably not going to write anything inside it until I get to Loc Lac, so I'll write down what I can for now.

The going-away party was last night. It was pretty nice to have everyone in the village wishing me well and seeing me off. I'm really going to miss everyone.

Dante said that the trip would only take a couple weeks between here and Loc Lac, so we'll make pretty good time once we're actually on the road. Though, he's planning on stopping in a couple small towns and villages between here and there to make the same offer he made to the villagers in Corel, asking if there was anyone around with special abilities or skills that could help the common good of the country.

I think I'm getting used to the idea though, this 'for the good of the country' thing. I know I'm going to miss everyone that I've made friends with in Corel, but at the same time, I'm finally getting a little bit excited at the idea that I'm going to be making a difference and helping people. As much as I hated my father making me his cheap labor, the idea that I can actually use my knowledge to help people is kind of invigorating.

Maybe I can really do some good with what I know. Maybe I can make my friends here proud of me, even if it means I have to live in Loc Lac. Maybe I won't be so busy that I can't at least come back to visit my friends when I have some time to spare. Maybe this is actually a really good decision on my part. I guess I'll find out pretty quickly.

I can see one of Dante's guards coming up the path. Guess this is it.

I just had a thought: what wagon am I riding in? They're not putting me in the same cabin as those goons with the mushrooms, are they? I really hope not. I'm not feeling quite that adventurous.

Well, that's it for now. Next stop, Loc Lac.

* * *

October 3

My name is Auru Arcadian. It is with a heavy heart that I open this diary and write in it. The words that fill these pages are not my own, but those of my good friend, Jacob Fredricks. And yet, it falls on me to fill in the last entry. I feel I must.

Jacob is dead.

During his journey to Frost Town, Dante's caravan was attacked by a Rathian. It came on them suddenly, by the reports, and killed many in only a few moments. Nearly all were killed, save for five: Doctor Dante, his assistant, and three of the four hunters he had hired as his escort.

I know not how or why only they survived, and not the others that journeyed with them, but the Guild has assured me that their investigation proved that it was merely fortune that they lived. The hunters claim that they were only doing their job, rushing to protect the man that they were hired to before realizing that the others were so threatened. I cannot help but feel a cold anger in my chest, that they could not protect anyone else. That they could not protect Jacob. I should be glad that they even survived such an attack from so dangerous a creature, but I am not.

No. That's not fair. I'm not angry at the hunters. I'm angry at myself.

It hurts me now to even write these words. I heard the news several days ago, and yet some part of me wished to deny the truth. Even as proof of the attack came to us from the Guild, even as the remains were returned to us, I refused to believe the truth. Even as I lay my eyes on the bloodied tatters of his clothing, even when the Guild returned the sword and shield I had given him, now chipped and dented, even when at last, they handed me this diary, the leather bindings stained dark with his blood, still I did not wish to admit it. As I write these words, I feel as though I am admitting to that which I did not wish to. That my friend is truly gone, and I will never see him again.

And it was all my fault. Jacob didn't want to leave the village. I didn't want him to leave the village, and yet I still encouraged him to do so. I told him it would be good for him. I told him it would lead him to great things. I believed all the things I said, but all it did was kill him.

Should I have been more selfish? Should I have told him to stay, even if I believed that the journey would be the best for him at the time?

I know I shouldn't be tormenting myself like this. I know such wishful thinking is pointless. I know all this, but I can't help it. I just want my friend back.

The villagers are preparing a funeral for him. I will be performing the eulogy, though I don't deserve to. He always told me that I was smart, that I always knew the right words to say. But now I cannot find the words. I cannot tell a grand speech about him. I can only say what I know of him.

He was not strong or brave. He was not wise. He was not a great orator or highly respected in Corel. But he was my friend, and he was a good and kind man, quick with a smile and eager to help people. That is all that is important to me about him, and that will be how I choose to remember him.

I write these words knowing that they will never be read. Though this diary contains the thoughts of Jacob's last few months of living, they will not be seen by anyone else. Our way in Corel Village is to cremate the bodies of the deceased. As we have no body, instead we shall burn what the Guild has returned: his bloodied clothes, the tools he had taken with him to Frost Town, and this diary. The remains will be put into an urn, which I plan on molding myself.

After the funeral, I will be making a journey with his urn to lay him to rest. Jacob once joked with me about what he wanted people to do with him once he died: he wanted his body filled with gunpowder and thrown into a volcano, so he could go out with a literal bang. I'm sure he was merely fooling, but even in jest I will see it through. I plan to travel to Frost Town next week, where I will fill his urn with the most volatile materials I can find, and then journey to the core of the Volcano hunting grounds, and give him the sending-off he desired.

I fear that all this talk of death has left me feeling melancholy. I can write no more here. The funeral is two days from now, and I have much to prepare.

Farewell, Jacob. I hope that you can forgive me, for leading you to such an abrupt end. I hope you are well, whatever lies beyond the veil of death. I will remember you well, and you will be greatly missed.

Your friend, now and always,

Auru

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please Review!**

 **Welcome to Charon! I hope you enjoy the ride. Things may not seem too exciting in the story at the moment, but don't worry, it'll pick up soon enough.**

 **So, yeah, as you can see, Charon is yet another experiment in writing style, one that I just couldn't get out of my head. I admit, I've never been a big fan of first person storytelling, but I just wanted to give it a shot. I promise that only the Charon story will be written like this. This may put off some readers, but this story will be written entirely in diary/journal format. Another little inspiration taken from the original Dracula book, which was written in a similar style, as well as the more recent book The Martian. It's an interesting method of writing, admittedly. The writer lives out their lives as normal, then returns to their journal to try and summarize what has happened from their own point of view. And makes for very abrupt changes in tone as well, heheheh… Each chapter is going to be written from a different person's perspective as the story progresses, so you'll never know who's going to be next on the docket.**

 **I was tempted to lace the chapter with a bunch of spelling errors and typos to indicate someone making mistakes as they wrote by hand, but I felt like that would be a little too much.**

 **And yes, the story will be its own entity here on FF. While I was planning to add it to the DLC stories, I realized that the story would be far too long and spread out to really fit in there. Charon is looking like it will be longer than Underground and After Life, maybe even put together. The Charon chapters will also be releasing slowly, and I might have to fill the gaps in my schedule with other DLC stories, and I don't want to break apart the story flow if I don't have to. So, Charon will be its own entry, just to keep things clean and neat.**


	2. The Scientist, Dante

The Scientist, Dante

 _Disclaimer: Monster Hunter is copyright Capcom. All the characters in this story are mine, unless otherwise noted._

 _Edited by: Thomas A. Hawk and DinoJake_

* * *

October 8

I have returned from my journey to the southeastern border. My visit was uneventful for the most part, until near the end.

My initial hopes for this trek, chasing rumors that someone had developed a shock trap which paralyzed monsters with methods other than electricity, unfortunately failed to come to fruition. Such a creation would be exceptionally valuable in this area of the country, as the Zinogre would no longer become 'charged' by standing on them. With Zinogres becoming more commonplace within Theron, every advantage that can be gained against them is needed. However, though rumors abounded, none that I spoke to could give me any definitive aid in finding the creator of such a trap, and I was forced to abandon my search.

I have heard of other traps in foreign countries, called 'paralysis traps', which are constructed using materials from paralysis-inducing monsters. Such a creation would be advantageous against Zinogre, but may lose its effects when used by hunters equipped with paralysis coatings on their blades and arrows. It is something to consider, but I shall seek other methods that may prove more universally beneficial. I will see if my foreign informants can glean any information from Gahiji or Schrade, though I have little hope on either front.

My journey was not without profit, however. While traveling in the mountains near Yukumo Village, I spoke with a man who claimed that he was able to eat mushrooms and display no adverse effects, no matter the danger the mushroom presented. I admit my excitement was palpable upon learning this. My research has shown that some individuals are able to produce a unique digestive acid that is capable of efficiently dissolving fungal spores, turning any negative effects to positive. I've sought for some such individuals who I could study, and asked him to show me his ability. The results exceeded my expectations: consuming a paralyzing mushroom hardened his flesh and made his body tough as leather; eating a heat-producing mushroom filled him with great strength; eating a depressant mushroom filled him with unmatched vigor.

I was able to convince the man to join me on a journey to Loc Lac, where he might allow me to conduct some tests to study his digestive tract. He would be paid well for the assistance; I admit, an opportunity like this was worth no small price to me. If my studies prove fruitful, I may be able to produce a drug that offers the same effects to others, so that even in the most inhospitable terrain, with access to mushrooms an individual could save their own lives. This could be a more viable solution than using such rare fungi to concoct expensive potions.

I managed to strike a deal with a group of mushroom farmers near the Gahin border as well. The soil in that part of the mountains is nearly perfect for the growth and upkeep of the fungi called 'Dragon Toadstools'. If what the man who accompanied me said is true, that rare mushroom has the particular attributes to heal an individual with such great effect that it can return them from near-death. If I can secure a constant supply of them, I may be able to put more effort into the study.

I met several others who I convinced to join our little procession as well, including several Wyverians who claimed to be immune to venom-induced ailments such as paralysis and poison, an old smith who had been developing methods to channel more elemental power from the blades she designed, and a man who claimed to 'emit an aura of flame', whatever that means. He insisted I examine his 'power', and though I am skeptical of the accuracy of his claims, there is no harm in humoring him. Others who joined me were those who had developed certain scientific and engineering advances, and were willing to share their knowledge. One man claimed to have developed a new metal-folding technique, another presented me with a potent potion she had developed, another had some interesting knowledge of piping and hydrodynamics, and the last had developed a more efficient tranquilizer to be used against monsters.

During our journey to Loc Lac, I was admittedly concerned whether I would have the time to fully gather the information from all those who accompanied me; I have many different experiments and tests to oversee, and many of those with me had made clear their intent to return from whence they came eventually. If I did not focus on them, many of them would certainly beg my pardon and return to their homes.

However, I had a stroke of fortune on the road to Frost Town, when our wagons were attacked on the road by a Rathian. Thankfully, the hunters under my employ were quick to respond, and only a single wagon was destroyed by the beast before it was put down by my men, though several of those accompanying us were wounded in the skirmish.

I saw this as a fine opportunity to gather materials, however, and at my word, my hunters quickly attacked and captured those that were traveling with us, taking them prisoner. The remaining wagons were destroyed, and two unimportant prisoners were killed to doctor the scene of the battle. Personal belongings were scattered and coated in blood. Two of my guards were sent to escort the new test subjects to my lab, while the others continued with me to Frost Town.

The Guild was given a standard story of devastation, and the lives of the civilians were written off as killed by the Rathian. After my questioning by the Guild, I claimed trauma of the loss of lives, and told the Guild that I would not return immediately to my lab in Loc Lac, and instead take a sabbatical to my personal lab in the south. The Guild accepted this, and allowed me to depart, at which point I returned here to my hidden laboratory. As of yet, there have been not even rumors of doubt to my tale; my reputation is as infallible as ever.

Upon my return I was pleased to find that all thirteen surviving captives were imprisoned successfully. It is always good to have a wide variety of subjects, as opposed to the convicts that used to be sent from Loc Lac before Stergo's reforms. They have been numbered and branded. I have attached a short summary of each.

HS105 - Female, 21, good health, wife of HS106 (potion maker)

HS106 - Male, 20, Lost, good health, husband of HS105

HS107 - Male, 45, good health (flame)

HS108 - Male, 78, poor health (metal-folding)

HS109 - Male, 16, good health, twins with HS110

HS110 - Male, 16, good health, twins with HS109

HS111 - Female, 48, poor health, mother of HS109 and HS110 (element smith)

HS112 - Female, 17, good health (tranquilizer)

HS113 - Male, 25, Lost, good health (mechanic)

HS114 - Male, 64, good health (mushroom)

WS048 - Male, 15, Wyverian, poor health (immune)

WS049 - Female, 81, Wyverian, good health (immune)

WS050 - Male, 60, Wyverian, poor health (immune)

More detailed data will be added to my files in official documents as I gather more information from them. Their names will be added to my list.

I will need to determine which experiments to assign each subject to as I learn more. Of course, HS105, 111, 112, and 113 will need to be questioned to gather the information I first recruited them to acquire, so their participation in other experiments will need to be postponed until their information has been extracted.

The most valuable of these subjects are HS106 and 113, who have professed to being Lost. I have had such rare occasions to use Lost as subjects. They will need to be assigned carefully, so as not to waste their potential.

However, HS108 and 111, and WS048 and 050 are all in poor health due to the Rathian attack. The effort required for recovery will be evaluated, and those deemed too uneconomical to maintain will be added to the more urgent experiments, so as not to waste their lives. My aides will begin evaluation tomorrow morning.

I will take a half day to rest tomorrow. The journey has been wearying, and I find myself tired. I must recover my stamina, so I may conduct my research with a clear mind.

Personal note: write a letter to the Guild in the morning, requesting more live monsters for study, as per our noted criterion. The biologists in Loc Lac must be reminded frequently to send more research subjects, or they will be given to that mad brat in the west.

* * *

October 10

I have taken time to rest, and have spent the day gathering reports from my assistants over what they have uncovered during the course of my journey.

Dr. Alecto's research into the culinary arts continues. While I still cannot understand his theory behind the 'science of food', I cannot deny his results. That said, even after eighteen months of research, Alecto still has not found any scientific explanation for these effects, and I must put my foot down. He has three months to develop a cohesive, scientifically viable theory about how his proposed 'Food Skills' are produced, or I will withdraw his funding. His enthusiasm is unmatched, however, and I often wonder if he will not continue his work out of his own pocket.

Dr. Tisiphone has had a breakthrough in recent weeks, however, and her apiary is awash with enthusiasm. I've skimmed her research notes, and it seems as though she has almost unlocked the secret behind Snakebee honey's near-mystical value when applied to alchemical mixtures. If her research continues at its current pace, the Guild may be able to mass-produce 'Mega Potions' within the year, with the potential to even improve the efficacy of the substance if Tisiphone's bee breeding efforts show results.

My only hope is that this research allows for a rename of 'Mega Potions'. I can only find the title to be churlish, for lack of a better word. The Guild is an exemplary organization to work for, but the naming sense of its producers is subpar.

Dr. Geryon has once again disappointed me, and I have been forced to give him his final warning. His research into dash juices and 'mega' dash juices - once more I find myself filled with distaste at the Guild's naming schemes - has accrued two more casualties in the time since my last lab visit. While once his study gave me high hopes, this makes five research subjects that have suffered cardiac arrest from the effects of the juice. Geryon has proven himself too overeager to test his latest mixture, rushing thoughtlessly ahead, and this carelessness can no longer stand. I have informed him that I expect positive results to his research within the next six months, but that I will immediately cancel his funding and reduce him to lab assistant if even a single human death is attributed to his dash juices within that time. He will learn caution, or he will be replaced.

Finally, we have some excellent news from Dr. Antaeus. His suggestion to study forge work seems to have been exactly the education he needed to complete his research, and he has successfully presented me with the fruits of his labors: two curved stones which he has dubbed a 'powertalon' and an 'armortalon'. They are aptly-named baubles as well: it turns out that the secret to amplifying the effects of power- and armorcharms lay in the talons of a Deviljho. I have thoroughly scrutinized Antaeus' research, and his attention to detail is excellent. I have offered him the highest of praise, and he has been given permission to deliver his study to the Guild for their perusal, along with a recommendation I shall write myself. I have no doubt they will find the results as pleasing as I did. I fear that his creations will not see wide production, given the difficulty in acquiring the aforementioned Deviljho talons, but Antaeus seems pleased with his results nevertheless.

When he returns, I will ask him to continue his work, to see if he can perhaps uncover exactly how it is that 'charms' apply their effects to its holder. Antaeus believes the charms are emitting a low-frequency sound which produce the effects; his discussions with Dr. Dis over her hunting horn studies seem to have borne unexpected fruit.

The remaining three labs maintain a steady pace, but none have any noteworthy boons or failures which deserve a place in these pages. Not today, at least.

On a side note, HS108 died of his wounds this afternoon. His health has been in decline, despite our efforts, and recovery seemed impossible, so he was swiftly assigned to Dr. Megaera's lab. The experiments with 'lifepowders' were apparent failures; even while standing within ten feet of HS108, the powder's effects did not reach him when consumed by HS076. An immediate test of 'recover shots' was attempted as well, but once again our formula has failed: the shells did not heal HS108, but rather dealt the final blow.

A pity. We had not the time to draw information about his metal-folding technique from him. His body will be studied to see if any information can be drawn from the corpse. Once that is done, the remains shall be fed to GNS002.

The next few days, I will be working with Dr. Geryon. Perhaps my presence will spark a sense of responsibility and professionalism that he has been so severely lacking these last few months. After that I will aid Alecto in his research, to see if I cannot provide some insight that he has yet to consider. Even the smallest spark could ignite the flame of ingenuity within him, and lead to some inspiration. He has it in him, I know it; it merely needs to be brought out.

Personal note: choose an assistant to begin gathering information from the latest collection of test subjects. Notes are to be precise and articulate, and even the minutest details are to be withdrawn. Minos will be heading the interrogation. He has the most experienced touch.

* * *

October 18

It was my great pleasure this morning to discover that my shipment from the southern frontier has finally arrived: Gougarf gems, one red and one blue, from the Lolo and Ray Gougarf respectively. It took no small amount of zenny and pulling strings to gather these materials.

Research shows that the Ray and Lolo share a bond that few species of monster are able to match. Even Rath mating pairs, those that have been together for decades or longer, do not have the same sort of coordination that the Gougarfs possess. Guild research dictates that Gougarf coordination, even in battle, has precision and timing bordering on what could even be a telepathic bond. While trying to conduct such research on the Gougarfs themselves will likely prove inconclusive, the gems may offer some insight.

The Ray and Lolo Gougarf both produce powerful magnetic and electrical fields through their bodies, one positive and the other negative. Hunters that have managed to carve gems from both monsters discover that the stones have a particular reaction to each other, especially when two gems belong to a mated pair of Gougarfs. It has been theorized that these gems may be a key to understanding the unparalleled teamwork between the Gougarfs. Perhaps these are an 'organ' of sorts, which offer a Gougarf a sort of 'vision' as to what its partner is doing, when under the effect of the proper electrical or magnetic field?

By researching these gems, I may be able to develop a method which can allow hunters to communicate with each other over long distances, and reach levels of cooperation we have yet to imagine.

I plan on beginning experiments immediately. Dr. Alecto's research seems to be approaching a breakthrough, but I feel as though he will reach its conclusion by his own merit, and I feel safe in turning my attention to a new project. I will begin by testing the effects of electricity and magnetism on the individual gems, as well as studying any reactions that the gems have to each other.

I need more materials, however, an abundance of electricity-producing materials and equipment. Copper is a must. Silver and gold will be gathered if our funds can support the purchase. Monster materials are essential as well. Lagiacrus and Zinogre are obvious choices, but I should not ignore the subspecies; Baleful Gigginox, Crimson Qurupeco, and Ivory Lagiacrus would be beneficial if their materials prove more efficient. I will have some men set off to Loc Lac and Yukumo to gather what they can from hunters.

I wonder if I could get the Guild to allow me to use Alatreon materials? No, I'd best stamp out that desire immediately; Guildmaster Stergo keeps those materials under tighter lock and key than anything in his control. I would have a greater chance of sending some of my own hunters to the Sacred Land and killing one of those lesser Alatreons that dwell near the peak, but even then the Frost Town Guild authority is keeping a valiant watch on anyone and anything entering or leaving the Sacred Land.

In the meantime, Minos and assistant Cocytus have withdrawn as much information as they can from our newest test subjects under current circumstance. They have been given two more days to gather any lingering slivers of data, but once that is passed, the subjects shall be dispersed throughout the labs as required for more practical research.

Personal note: Send one or two subordinates to the Volcano region to determine the efficacy of trying to poach an Alatreon.

* * *

October 22

Gathering materials for testing the Gougarf gems continues. What equipment we had available was prepared and distributed, and a laboratory was assigned and designated for the research of the gems. Drs. Virgil and Beatrice will be leading this research project alongside myself, and both have taken to the project with enthusiasm that lends a sense of pride to their work. I eagerly await the arrival of our materials, so we can begin our study in full. The two of them have already begun preliminary investigation with what materials we have already. Once the remainder has arrived, I will join them and the research will begin in full.

In the meantime, I was reminded today that the Lost are inflicted with what is commonly known as the 'Lost Madness', an affliction allegedly caused by spending time within the blue crystals the Alatreon was said to produce. I have never taken the time to examine this 'madness', and with the opportunity presented, I sought to sate my curiosity. I started my research with HS113, temporarily borrowing him from Dr. Tisiphone.

113 was initially uncooperative with my requests. I have come to expect that from new subjects, however, and have long since learned how to counter such reticence. After a half-hour of encouragement from one of my guards, he was much more open with information.

What he offered was quite interesting. His 'madness' forms itself into a disdain against imperfections, or broken objects/systems. Should he see something broken, there awakens in him a desire, if not a need, to repair what is damaged or incomplete. It seems to only apply to objects and materials that he is capable of fixing or has relative comprehension of, however. Should he not repair what he sees damaged, he suffers from 'itching' on his hands that eventually develops into great pain if left ignored.

I decided to test this reaction. He had mentioned a case where his affliction had truly bothered him, telling of a pocket watch he had been given, and thus I sought to use a similar method – I regret not having collected the pocket watch from the remains of the wagons after the Rathian attack, but alas, hindsight is the greatest critic. I had a desk clock brought from one of the work rooms. I then rendered the clock inoperable by simply taking a wooden block and placing it inside. By doing so, the pendulum within would not be able to swing, and the clock would be stuck on a single moment of time.

I did all this just outside of HS113's cell, while making certain that he was observing my actions. Once the clock was rendered 'broken', I placed it on the ground outside of HS113's reach. He was rather quick to realize what I was doing, and requested fervently that I remove the block, but I ignored his request and sat nearby to observe and take note of his reactions.

The results were rather fascinating. Though there was little to no reaction for several hours, which made for a tiresome wait, eventually there was a response. 113 began fidgeting and wringing his hands, and it became clear that he was attempting to resist some impulse. During this period he took the sheets from his cell's bed and wrapped them completely over his hands and forearms.

The next several hours after that were informative, if uneventful: 113 spent most of that time in an effort to resist what I imagine to be a growing sense of 'itching' across his hands. He showed signs of growing duress and strain as time passed, sweating and breathing erratically. Eventually, he began to break down weeping, but still refused to remove the sheets from around his hands. The whole time, his begging for me to 'fix' the clock never ceased.

Eventually his resistance broke down and the sheets were removed from his forearms, and he began scratching his hands fervently. I must admit, I was caught off guard by the speed at which I was forced to intervene. In a matter of minutes his efforts had broken skin, and blood was dripping from his palm onto the floor. The abrupt escalation of his condition forced me to drive the experiment to a halt, and the block was removed from the desk clock. Almost immediately, upon seeing that the pendulum was swinging once more, 113 collapsed, no longer scratching his hands but unable to move from exhaustion and presumed relief. A medic was called in to treat his wounds, and she claims it will take some time to repair the damage to his palms.

Even from the stories I've heard of the depth of Lost madness, I was shocked by the extent; all this caused merely by using a block to stop a pendulum. I have heard of many types of madness inherent in the Lost: fits of rage, delusions and hallucinations, psychosis, as well as other compulsions such as kleptomania, schizophrenia, and so on. I suppose now I can understand with little wonder how the situation in Loc Lac grew so strenuous between Therian and Lost, setting aside the issue with the Alatreon. Though I question how those in Loc Lac ever viewed the Lost as a threat. 113's condition seems more a danger to himself than any other.

I cannot help but be intrigued, however. To what extent does this madness affect the inflicted? Is 113 an extreme example of the madness, or is his relatively benign when compared to the majority? I fear that any study I commit to will prove lacking, given that 113 is the only Lost test subject I have available, due to the recent death of HS106. Also, psychoanalysis is not a field of research I am particularly well-versed in. This could prove to be a valuable study, however, given the increasing influence the Lost have on Therian life, and beginning a cohesive start into a proper study of the Lost madness will no doubt prove invaluable in the next several decades – an unbiased study, of course; the 'study' conducted in Loc Lac under the pay of the late councilmember Zhanin can hardly be defined as such.

I will research what I can before the remainder of the Gougarf gem research materials are purchased and delivered. I've set aside a private laboratory for use and transferred HS113 to my use. If nothing else, the wounds to 113's hands can also be used to further Tisiphone's potion research.

Personal note: Send a request to the Guild for samples of the 'Lost crystals'. Dormant or active is of no consequence.

* * *

November 4

Most of the materials I had asked for to continue the Gougarf study came in today, save the Lagiacrus crystals we ordered. As such, I fear that my research into Lost madness must come to an end. There is still much to learn, but my research into the Gougarf gems takes precedence, and HS113 was returned to Dr. Tisiphone for her use in Expanded Potions. She seems pleased to have him back, claiming the wounds across his palms and fingers will allow her to study the effects of her potions on scar tissue and damaged nerve endings.

I was impressed by Dr. Beatrice and Dr. Virgil upon my return; it seems that both of them have made exemplary bounds into initial research with what little equipment they already had.

Beatrice has developed two helmets of sorts which will be used to help facilitate the long-range communication. The initial design is not intended for human skulls, as tests will first be run on Ludroth subjects collected from the surrounding area. Complications with the testing is expected, given the lesser levels of monster intelligence, but we must reserve human testing until after we have a greater theory about the intricacies of the gems. I have so few human subjects, I refuse to waste valuable materials if earlier precautions can be taken beforehand. Ludroth are plentiful, humans are not.

Given that we didn't have any sort of attachable power source, as the Lagiacrus crystals have yet to arrive, the helmets need to be 'charged' by an external battery. Beatrice explained that the effects of the charge only last around fifty minutes at the moment. This timeframe will need to be improved upon in later designs, but for now it will serve our needs. Already, she has concocted plans for a superior design, but we will continue our experiments with the alpha model to improve our grasp on the base theory.

Virgil has already conducted an impressive study on the effects of electricity and magnetism on the gems themselves, despite our minimal materials, and his notes are astounding to read. I find myself in envy that I had distracted myself with the Lost madness rather than assisting him here, as I can only feel awe at his discoveries.

He has also conjured up a preliminary plan about how to determine the efficacy of the helmets. Two small mazes of differing complexity and design will be constructed, with fish at the end of the maze. Two Ludroth subjects will be run through different mazes several times, to be timed on the speed at which they complete the traversal. The Ludroth will then be equipped with the communication helmets – hereby referred to as com-helms – and run through the opposing maze. Provided the helmets work as intended, the Ludroth will be able to complete the opposing maze at a faster pace than the other Ludroth, due to 'instructions' sent through the Gougarf gems.

We don't expect great success, given the design of the helmet is only preliminary and our subjects are of bestial nature, but with fortune, our initial tests will prove enlightening. We begin our testing in the morning. I plan to spend this evening taking a more thorough look into Beatrice and Virgil's research notes and progress reports.

Personal note: Send out requests for more materials, on the request of Beatrice, including: Gigginox eyes and brain matter, complete head if possible, either variant, Baleful preferred; Qurupeco music sacs and beaks, either variant, no preference; Ceadeus materials, 'Luminous Organs'. The Ceadeus carves will be challenging to acquire, and I cannot guess what Dr. Beatrice desires these materials for; I am eager to pick her mind in the morning.

* * *

November 9

The Ludroth keep dying. Every time we attempt to create a connection between the two Ludroth's minds, there is some sort of 'cerebral backlash', as Dr. Virgil has called it: hemorrhages in the brain, followed by seizures and death. Obviously the gemstones are doing something to the Ludroths' minds, but it's uncertain exactly what. Some last longer than others before their demise, however, but the results are the same: within an hour of trying to create a connection, the Ludroth are dead.

Virgil is dissecting the brains of the deceased in search of what's going wrong. Hopefully we will have an answer soon, or at least find a method to mitigate these incidents. We will continue to make adjustments to the system in search of creating a successful connection between two minds.

Personal note: Send out hunters to collect more Ludroth from the surrounding area. Make sure not to garner the attention of the local Guild authority.

* * *

November 14

Two Ludroth managed to survive the testing process. While I find it fortuitous that we've finally had success with Dr. Beatrice's com-helms, there are still no answers as to why several dozen Ludroths died while testing the helmets. Even now, the successful test subjects, LDS203 and LDS206, show signs of cerebral strain and pain, so our results aren't perfect.

Strangely, the settings and wiring of the helmets have been altered very little from their initial design, and yet the experiment seems to have worked when applied to these two particular Ludroth, and neither I nor my subordinates have any idea why this could be. Dr. Virgil's research into the minds of the deceased Ludroths continues, and he claims to have a hint at the solution to this conundrum, but refuses to reveal more until he has more concise data.

In the meantime, Dr. Beatrice and I can finally begin the testing proper of the gems and their communication abilities. Complications or not, we have scheduled the first tests in the morning. LDS203 and 206 have already been run through mazes number 1 and 2 respectively prior to connecting them via the Gougarf gems, and have been timed as well. Tomorrow they will be equipped with the com-helms and run through the alternate maze. With fortune, we will see signs of long-range communication between the two Ludroths.

* * *

November 15

Testing has been continuing at a steady pace. Dr. Beatrice's com-helm seems to work as predicted, and we've collected very positive results from only a day of research.

The data is very promising: LDS206 completed its path through maze number 1 with minimal hesitation and with a much faster time than LDS203. From the viewing platform, it appeared as though 206 was indeed following a preconceived path, rather than trying to search out the path as 203 did during its first traversal of the maze. We were worried that 206 would try and smell out 203's path, despite our efforts to clean out the smell, but 206 didn't appear to track a path through scent at all. All indication seems to point to 203 providing data to 206 during 203's traversal of the maze.

Oddly, Dr. Virgil reported that, while 206 was traversing the maze, 203 seemed to be giving no outward signs of communication with her counterpart. We had suspected some type of vocal barking and baying on 203's part, but she remained silent during the course of the experiment, occupying herself with adjusting the nest in her cage.

Is the communication between the two of them so complete that they do not need to focus on the task? Or is something else happening? Closer observations will be taken this afternoon, when 203 attempts maze number two for the first time.

Personal note: Look into our budget and see if I can reorganize our food and drink shipments. Dr. Beatrice, Virgil, and I all agree that the food available at the canteen is rather lacking. Although, a thought occurs: in light of Dr. Alecto's floundering research into 'Food Skills', perhaps he could continue his research in conjunction with providing the other researchers lunch and dinner options? There are studies indicating that well-fed individuals are more productive in their fields, the other researchers are not likely to complain. I'll need to look into the efficacy of such a thing.

.

There was an incident during LDS203's maze traversal, one that I cannot yet wrap my mind around.

The test began as normal, with both 203 and 206 under observation, with 203 prepared to begin her first traversal of maze number 2. However, as the gate to the maze was opened, the buckles keeping the com helm attached came loose from 203's head, and the helmet fell to the floor. Beatrice was set to cancel and restart the test, but Virgil halted her and motioned towards the maze.

To our collective amazement, 203 was continuing through the maze without halting, neither stopping to gather her bearings, nor to pause and smell around for the trail of 206. In a rush of single-minded determination, 203 finished the course and began gorging itself on the fish left for it at the end.

There was no communication at all between the two Ludroth during the course of the race. It was impossible for there to be any in the slightest, and yet 203 completed the maze without hesitation, at a speed which would either suggest that she had run the maze before or possessed precognition. The former never occurred, and the latter has infinitesimally small odds.

Is it possible that the com-helms do not only create a mental connection between two entities while the helms are on, but rather create a permanent connection between them, one that does not require the com-helms to communicate through? This seems unlikely, but I will not ignore any possibility without further data.

We have spent hours searching for a solution, but nothing has appeared. Observations will continue as long as they are needed.

* * *

November 16

The situation has grown more confounding today, starting when Dr. Beatrice approached me in the morning and informed me of even greater complications.

During the night, she kept watch on the subjects and discovered that both were experiencing strange changes in their personalities. 203 was recorded early on as having a very aggressive personality, while 206 was much the opposite, more submissive and compliant during testing. However, by Beatrice's examinations, the personalities of the two Ludroths seem to have been reversed, with 203 becoming much more submissive and 206 acting with aggressive tendencies formerly unseen.

This by itself leads to several concerning implications, but that wasn't the end of it. While observing the two Ludroth, Dr. Beatrice took note of something else as well. Both 203 and 206 were captured from different areas of the country before being brought here to the laboratory, 203 from the western coast and 206 from the inland Flooded Forest hunting ground. While there are few physical differences, aside from 203's larger body, there are several instinctual differences, including particular quirks and survival techniques each would need to survive in their native locale. One such variation was the difference in their eating habits: 203 devours fish whole, while 206 consumes the torso of the fish while leaving behind the head and the tail.

What Dr. Beatrice took note of was that, ever since the com-helms were applied, 203 and 206 have been doing the exact opposite: 203 has been eating the torso of the fish, while 206 has been consuming the fish whole.

To alter an individual's state of mind is relatively simple; certain drugs and hunting horns can aggravate adrenaline output and testosterone levels with relative frequency, and mopeshrooms and tranquilizers can reduce aggression levels in the proper doses. Who's to say that these Gougarf gems don't do the same? Pelagi are notorious for their extreme aggression, after all.

But this is not just a shift in aggressive tendencies; this is perhaps something far greater. 203 and 206 had habits and hereditary traits that are ingrained in their subconscious passed from one to the other, not just tendencies towards violence. This is not just a transfer of information or a passing of data and instructions, this is complete conversion of upbringing and memory.

Is it possible that our experiment has gone beyond a method of communication? Is it possible that we have inadvertently concocted a method to transfer the mind of one creature to another?

I must not get ahead of myself. I must maintain calm and patience. One incident does not facilitate actuality. Whatever the results of this test, more data must be collected before I speculate further. Needless to say, something has happened to the Ludroth, and I intend to discover what.

* * *

November 20

LDS203 and LDS206 are dead. Seizures, convulsions, and death like the others, though the effects did not consume them until almost a week after the helmets were first used. Dr. Virgil has already begun lobotomizing them in search of finding answers in their brains.

We managed to conduct more tests before their passing, and the conversion of information does indeed seem greater than simple data. It is certainly not just a ranged form of communication as we initially hoped it to be.

Dr. Beatrice continued testing on what knowledge and habits the two Ludroths gained from the effects of the gemstones, and more importantly, what they lost. Tests were conducted pressing both subjects to react to certain impulses in ways that they would have before the experiment was conducted, to see if either retained impulses from before the experiments. It seems, however, that the imparting of information between 203 and 206 was complete.

In studying them outside of testing situations, the changes became more obvious. The nests the Ludroth had built in their cages were shuffled and adjusted during the nights, until each replicated the other perfectly; it was as though the two cages had traded places.

When presented with swimming tanks of varying salinity, 203 preferred the freshwater, and 206 preferred saltwater, despite each being hatched and raised in the opposite.

Hunting horns made to replicate the roars of large monsters were brought in, and both Ludroth reacted powerfully to monsters that would not be common in the areas they were captured from, while showing only wariness and concern to the roars of monsters that should have been familiar; 206 was particularly agitated by the roar of a Zinogre, when by all rights a Flooded Forest Ludroth would have never heard the roar of one in its life.

Similar tests were conducted with mushrooms and herbs that would or would not be common in their nesting grounds, only to nearly have 203 consume a poisonous herb that it would have known better than to eat.

By all intents and purposes, the minds of the Ludroth were swapped between each other. But is this a true transfer of consciousness between two entities? Did perhaps the experiment simply copy their personalities and memories and place them down as an overlay, suppressing and supplanting the original mind? Is this some sort of hypnosis? Is this only temporary?

I cannot be certain that the machine we have built acts in the manner I am speculating it does. To suspect that this machine can transfer the minds between two entities is highly improbable, especially if it was done so by accident. It is infinitely more likely that something else occurred which has led us into perceiving the results of the experiment in such a way. However, I cannot deny that something very intriguing is happening here, and I intend to discover the extent of what these Gougarf gems truly have to offer.

From here on in, this will be referred to as Project Gemini.

Personal note: Send a request to the Guild for more paired Gougarf gems. Tell our traders to remain frugal, but double the zenny allocation for material acquisition. I must have more to continue this project.

* * *

November 30

It has been over a week with no discernable successes. However, we have discovered certain signals that seem to be occurring with the subjects' brains during the transfer process. We cannot accurately ascertain the source of these signals, not without carving open the subjects' skulls - an obviously impossible solution - but we are beginning to find some correlation between the signals and our success rate.

Dr. Virgil has requested a study on the use of the Gougarf gems themselves, without taking the Gemini machine into account. He believes that if he uses only the gems, he may be able to tabulate a study on the brain signals released during the process. I have allowed him this request, and when we are not conducting experiments on live subjects, he has set to work researching the gems alone.

In the meantime, I've given orders for the hunters in my employ to begin gathering large numbers of small monsters from the surrounding area, and requests have been sent to other hunters that I have hired previously to begin capturing large monsters for our research as well. With the mortality rate of the experiment being what it is at the moment, we need all the monsters we can collect as raw materials. Our experiments have already led to the deaths of nearly one hundred small monsters already, with very little explanations about how to prevent them.

What binds two monsters together and allows them to survive the process like those first two Ludroths? Both were captured in drastically different locales, and were vastly difference in upbringing and personality, and yet they have been our most successful test to date. At the same time, two monsters that are raised in the same nest, with the same habits and intuitive traits, will die from the process before the procedure is even complete.

Why? Is there some hidden quality of the test subjects that we are missing? What is the variable that determines success?

Perhaps it is because they are opposites that there was success? The Lolo and Ray Gougarf both produce opposing electrical and magnetic currents, after all. Does success of this experiment rely on having two test subjects of opposing personalities, or are there variables that have yet to be taken into account?

I will think further on this. I can only hope Dr. Beatrice and Virgil are doing the same.

On another note, assistant Cocytus has been taken interest in the data he was able to withdraw from our most recently collected test subjects. Specifically, he believes he can expand on the data collected from HS111 concerning the improved elemental channeling through weapons, using other information about hydrodynamics and mechanical engineering which he gathered from HS113. His proposal reeks of inexperience, but his intelligence is exemplary. I've allowed him to use the materials requested, including several different switch axe phials. I've given him one month to create a thesis and deliver his preliminary proposal to me. I am eager to see what he offers.

* * *

December 8

Dr. Virgil believes his research into the signals from the gems is creating positive results, and I am inclined to agree. He has been conducting brain signal tests on every living test subject we have in our possession, both monster and human, so we can gather the widest range of data as possible. Based on his research, we have been using the results to determine which monsters to try and transfer minds between, using the signal reactions as a basis. As of this entry, our potential success rate has increased sharply.

There have yet to be any completely successful transfers, unfortunately, no experiments which do not result in death, but we are growing ever closer with each passing experiment. Our greatest success so far was the transfer of consciousness remains the first two Ludroths, but we have since seen progress in switching the minds of Kelbi, Jaggi, and even two Nargacuga. However, we have yet to see another pairing that managed to survive for longer than ten hours at the most after the experiment.

We have also begun sliding into the possibility of switching the minds of two different species, once again using Virgil's research as a base. As expected, our odds of success drop dramatically; the test subjects react far more violently when paired with another species, to the point where their brains are nearly impossible to dissect after any attempt at transfer. However, Virgil believes it is possible, only far more difficult.

Myself and the two doctors agree that we could vastly increase our information if only we could find one more successful transfer pair - defining successful as surviving for more than twenty-four hours - no matter what species or mixture thereof it was. We can finely tweak the settings if only we had a control pair to branch off of. Virgil has informed me that we have two perfect specimens for this research, based on the results of his signal testing.

I've called for HS109 and HS110 to be prepped for study. Though I wished to conduct proper testing on monsters before moving to humans, the two of them are twin brothers, and research of the alleged 'bond' between twins is a study that has stretched back for eons. If I conduct this experiment on two individuals that are already quite close, perhaps there will be greater measure of success, and we will have access to two test subjects that will be able to describe their condition fluidly.

I look forward to discovering what information they have to offer. We have spent the day fully questioning both parties, digging for information and personality traits that the other does not possess or cannot replicate, as well as giving the two of them phrases and passwords to memorize without the knowledge of the other. If nothing else, we know the older brother was training to be a hunter and has some experience with a long sword, while the other brother was studying to be a musician.

Personal note: On the next order of groceries and food supplies, double the amount of coffee beans on the list. The last few weeks have been busy, and our pantry is in short supply.

* * *

December 10

The experiment was a success. I have successfully transferred two human minds between each other. HS109 and HS110 survived for a full twenty-eight hours before internal hemorrhaging killed them, but we managed to question them thoroughly before the seizures rendered them catatonic and unresponsive.

HS109 was able to recite a lyrical verse of poetry that was taught to HS110, while 110 was able to list the ingredients to a recipe that had been taught to 109. They were further tested on their skills with a blade and a violin, but by that point the results were unnecessary. Neither subject had the opportunity to pass the information off to the other before the experiment was conducted, and yet they each had information that they would not have known otherwise.

The rest of their remaining lives were spent being questioned and tested on, but the results only proved to further approve our conclusions. What uncertainty there was about the results of this project are now gone. My theory was confirmed by the twins: the Gemini machine transferred the minds between the two subjects, fully and completely.

With this knowledge in hand, the possibilities of Project Gemini are becoming increasingly boundless. At the start the experiment was simply a curiosity, but now there is much more potential to be developed. The mind boggles at the implications of this discovery.

Human beings have relied on hunters in one name or another for thousands of years to defend us from the threat of wild monsters, but if this study of mine can be developed further, what is to stop us from transferring a human mind into the body of a monster? We could study the depths of the ocean by supplanting a human's mind into that of a Lagiacrus or Plesioth. We could take note of the inner workings of a volcano by sending down an Agnaktor.

There are militant possibilities as well. What is to stop us from 'fighting fire with fire', as they say? We could have hunters fighting alongside a monster with the mind of a human inside of it. We could send entire legions of monsters out to counter elder dragons. Many storytellers seem to favor tales where hunters ride wyverns or other such beasts into battle as mounts; what's to keep such a ridiculous idea from being reality if this research reaches fruition? Though it will require having hunters willing to allow others to ride them, which may be a harder task to accomplish than this research. Hunters are a notoriously proud bunch, and asking them to act as mounts would not be a simple matter.

I am getting ahead of myself. I must not allow myself to be too hasty with these ideas. While the possibilities are no doubt intriguing, there are too many variables to consider. Switching the minds of two Ludroths and two humans is one thing; exchanging those of two different species is quite another, and may not be feasible.

Also, there is the issue of the deaths caused by the process of the experiment, which obviously must be avoided at all cost. While there may be some researchers willing to throw numerous human lives into this experiment, such things would be too wasteful for my tastes.

However, I cannot deny that this research has lit a flame of curiosity within me. I have lowered the priority of all other experiments and projects for the moment. I wish to see what I can unearth about these Gougarf gems, and what new developments they can allow. I will need to conduct more tests.

Personal note: Send my hired hunters out to gather more human research subjects. Related individuals preferred, twins and siblings considered the most desirable.

* * *

December 27

At last, we have successfully transferred the minds of two different species, after dozens upon dozens of failures. This afternoon, we managed a transfer between a Rathian and a Nargacuga.

I honestly expected the experiment to end in catastrophic failure like so many before them, but the experiment ended with surprising success. Both subjects died in the end as expected, but the Rathian mind in the Nargacuga's body managed to stay alive for a full seven hours before internal brain hemorrhaging killed it.

This means that it is possible for two different species to have their minds transferred between each other. A human mind truly could be planted within a monster's body.

Dr. Virgil has come up with another speculation: monster transferal rate seems to rise dramatically based on the intelligence levels of the monsters involved, especially when it comes to differing species. Both the Rathian and Nargacuga in question were of above average intelligence, judging by the reports given by the hunters that captured them. Not a level of intelligence that would make them of concern to the Guild, but enough to make them noteworthy.

If that is so, however, it may be that a monster would need to have a genius level of intelligence compared to its species for the process to succeed between it and a human. Such a monster would certainly catch the attention of and be watched carefully by the Guild, and more often than not would be sentenced to death rather than capture. Collecting the beast without garnering attention from the Guild would prove far more challenging that I am willing to risk without a guarantee that the chance of discovery is minimal. However, I do have a group hunting down a particular specimen at the moment that may prove useful. We shall see if they are successful.

In our research in transferring human brains, however, we have found a snag. An experiment was conducted with another pair of twins my men managed to collect, one male and one female. However, despite the positive readings we received from Dr. Virgil's signal tests, the Gemini experiment failed, and catastrophically so. I have a suspicion that there might be more difficulty transferring consciousness between members of the opposite gender. This is strange, considering the Gougarf gems usually come from a male and female breeding pair.

Perhaps it would be best to keep this research between creatures of the same gender anyway; previous experiments notwithstanding, the ramifications of transferring between genders may lead to complications I have no desire to explore right now.

The bodies of the failed subjects were fed to the monsters we've been keeping in captivity.

Personal note: try to set aside time to visit the other research labs and read all recent reports. My investment into Project Gemini has absorbed a greater majority of my time than anticipated, and I must not grow lackadaisical towards the rest of my contemporaries' work.

* * *

January 5

I have managed to collect a prime specimen for the human-monster Gemini experiment. My hunters have brought in a rather unique creature for us: a Stygian Zinogre given the designation 'Charon'.

By the Guild's records, the subject (hereby referred to as SZS003) is a rather spectacular case. Its size quantifies it as a 'gold-crown-small' of its species, only 40 feet long at most, and yet it has nearly killed the most humans ever recorded by the Guild for its species, second only to a large Stygian Zinogre that has been rampaging through the Volcano hunting grounds in recent years. Guild reports indicate that what the creature lacks in power, it makes up for it speed. They also seem to indicate that SZS003 is hyper-intelligent in comparison to the rest of its species, outwitting hunters on numerous occasions, and even has been suspected of having a minor understanding of human speech.

I am not sure how accurate these records are, but even partial truth would make 003 one of the most intelligent non-humanoid subjects I've had the opportunity to use, and the most promising specimen for a human-monster mind transferal. I will need to run tests to properly ascertain the subject's full intellectual capacity, and find a human subject with compatibility that matches 003's.

However, though Virgil's continued study into brain impulses produces results daily, even so it may not be enough. It may never be truly enough. What separates the thoughtful human from the primal beast may be something that cannot be overcome by a pair of gems plucked from the brains of two Pelagus. Even with 003's exemplary intelligence and mental capacity for its species, there may still be too many hurdles to leap for this to work.

I cannot have faith that this experiment will work without using a beast with great intelligence, however, and creatures of such mental prowess are rare. Collecting 003 was a great stroke of luck, and having creatures of similar prowess brought to my hidden laboratory would be too unfeasible to do regularly.

If I am to use Charon as my first human-monster test subject, I must make certain I have as great a chance of success as I can manage. Even if I fail, I must make certain I gather as much data as possible.

* * *

January 10

The decision has been made. We will use HS113 as the test subject for mental transfer for the Gemini Project.

This choice does not come lightly. Virgil's study is inarguable, however: his signal tests have revealed that HS113 has the greatest chance of success to transfer with SZS003. While I am not sure as to how a meek and rather weak Lost would have mental compatibility to one of the deadliest monsters in the country, I have grown to trust his insight on the matter. If the Gemini project is to produce a successful human-monster transfer, then these two subjects are our greatest chances at the moment.

We've pulled 113 from his position in Dr. Tisiphone's potions research once more and have begun preparing him for the experiment. He's become much easier to deal with in the last few months since my foray into the study of the Lost madness, short though it was. He has acclimated well to his position as a test subject, as opposed to other, more resistant individuals. As such, he has proven to be very amenable as we prepare him for the transfer.

If nothing else, we will be scrutinizing this test as carefully as we can. All researchers and assistants have been ordered to be present for this experiment, so as to not miss a single scrap of insight. The transfer is tomorrow morning.

* * *

January 11

It is early morning, the day of the Gemini experiment. I find myself sleepless, lost in my own thoughts. The last few months, my mind has been filled with dreams of possibilities, of wistful speculation on Gemini's grand results.

The last few hours I have returned to a more realistic mentality. Even if tomorrow's experiment runs perfectly, even if we have a success that could only be described as miraculous, even if this research leads to the greatest discovery since this country's founding, I know I could not reveal my data to the world as it is. I know my research goes beyond what the populace deems 'ethical'. I know that the Guild would string me up, denouncing my actions for what they perceive to be crimes, no matter how quickly they leap in to devour my data and use it for their own ends.

What do they know? Even considering all the sacrifices I've made, how much do they think I've contributed to this country's advancement?

'You cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.' I have heard that phrase many times during my life. For every accomplishment achieved, there must be something sacrificed. If that's the case, then I have broken many 'eggs' during the course of my tenure, and I no doubt will break many more before I am done. But have I not presented my 'omelets' to the world? Have they not been received with great thanks and splendor? The Guild and the public would see only evil in my deeds, counting not my achievements, but the number of humans that were used as subjects in my lab.

Compared to them, the trade is more than acceptable in my own eyes. For every man or woman that has died within these walls, surely I have extended the lives of a dozen hunters, and one hundred times that many civilians. One life taken to better that of a thousand others; this is a simple cost-benefit analysis. Even with such a great exchange, I would still be considered a villain.

The Guild is so foolishly nearsighted, and yet I must continue to rely on them. I must continue to sequester myself away in my 'secret laboratory' like some storybook villain, cackling madly from his throne. How much easier this would be, were they to see the profit in my methods, and yet I must rely on fortune and luck to find my 'eggs', rather than relying on the Guild.

Then again, perhaps this is for the better. With so few materials to work with, I am forced to tread with caution. Would I grow careless if test subjects were freely offered to me as I desire? As is, I must treat each of my subjects with grace and care, as though they were made of spun glass. This care I must show forces me to consider each subject as invaluable as the next, and that I must use them as efficiently as possible to best maximize the information they can offer. A single human can provide so much data, if only you are patient.

And patience is, and has always been, my greatest quality.

When I was invited by one of my contemporaries to fund a secret facility in the western forests, where I could purchase live test subjects, both monster and human, I declined, citing caution and waiting until such an illegal organization was more stable. Some months later I learned of the facility's destruction at the hands of the prisoners within. My patience allowed me to avoid certain death.

When I was offered work in a laboratory complex below Loc Lac, funded and supported in secret by clandestine Guild members, I once again declined. My reputation remains one of my greatest assets, and I did not want to risk that in such a highly populated location. Some months after the Alatreon attacked the city, I learned that the complex was revealed and dismantled by Stergo, effectively ruining the researchers that had been members. My patience allowed me to avoid arrest.

Even now I receive offers to come and work in the research complex that is being constructed in the western mountains. I have continuously refused, and will do so as long as there are so many unstable individuals gathered in one place. Such numbers of madmen is sure to end in destruction. I have no doubt that I will receive word of its collapse any day now.

My finest quality is patience. It is my caution that has led me to succeed where others in my position have failed or fallen into ruin. My path is no less illegal than theirs, no more 'ethical', but where others seek the quick and easy path, I maintain my pace, my caution, my sense of distrust. Never trust a silver platter. Anything easily offered is just as easily lost or taken away.

If I must lose what I have made, what I have gathered, then I refuse to lose it all. Like a lizard discards its tail, I will cut away what I don't need when the situation requires it, and recreate what has been lost when I am safe once more.

Am I being too hasty with the Gemini experiment? Should I wait until I've done more research, run more preliminary tests? I simply don't know. I can only show every precaution at this point in time, and hope for positive results.

* * *

January 12

The experiment was a success. My patience has paid off, and fortune has smiled upon me. HS113 has successfully had his consciousness transferred with that of SZS003. It has been eight hours since the experiment was conducted, and both subjects are miraculously still living.

At the moment, we are compiling data, reviewing the notes of all doctors and assistants that were in attendance for the experiment. Even the most miniscule scrap of information could be key to making Project Gemini a sustainable, repeatable project, and I must scour even the most obscure observations in search of anything that could improve the process. Both subjects are being studied to the fullest extent of our capabilities, and every researcher is working constantly to garner as much information as possible from the two subjects before their inevitable demise.

Upon awakening after the experiment, HS113 experienced a fit of panic and needed to be tranquilized to sedate him. Normally human subjects are informed about the experiment they will be involved in to promote compliance, but given the nature of Project Gemini, it was decided that we should refrain from informing 113 for the sake of keeping him calm. The effects of the tranquilizers and relaxants have made 113 more malleable in the last several hours, and we have been able to begin questioning him.

As for SZS003, he is proving an even greater challenge to handle. We expected a relatively simple chance to study a monster within a human body, but as of yet 003 has not calmed down, and has been constantly enraged since the experiment was conducted. Relaxants only seem to dampen his struggling, and the only way to keep him from thrashing about at all is to tranquilize him to the point of unconsciousness. 003's struggling is making it a challenge to properly study him, but we will find a way to continue our work.

I can only hope that the two remain alive for as long as possible. Only time will tell the sustainability. Our greatest success so far between different species remains locked at ten hours. Both subjects seem to be suffering from headaches at the moment, and that is only the first sign of their impending deaths.

If only we had some way to communicate with HS113, then studying his physical and mental acuity would be far easier. I will speak to Drs. Virgil and Beatrice on the morrow; we can exchange the minds of monster and man using the Gougarf gems, but perhaps a return to their original purpose of study would be in order. They were intended to create a method of long-range communication between hunters, but perhaps they can be used in another way: to converse with monsters. If the gemstones can swap minds between man and beast, surely a lesser experiment would be possible.

Personal Note: More intelligent monsters absolutely must be obtained to continue this research. Allocate more money towards Guild-captured monsters. Place a capture request for the Gobul nicknamed 'Goliath'.

* * *

January 19

I must leave my research lab. A missive from the Guild was sent to my 'official' laboratory north of here, requesting my presence. There have apparently been some theoretical alterations to the alchemical formula for armorskin, demondrug, and dash juice potions, and they want my professional opinion on them. While I am eager to see what sort of changes have been made to the formula, this request has come at a most inopportune time, as through some grand stroke of luck, both HS113 and SZS003 remain living and utterly healthy, with no signs of instability even after a week since their transfer.

Our research of both is in full swing, and we must strike while the iron is hot, so they say. So far, it seems that all of HS113's memories, thought processes, and cognitive abilities have been transferred to the body of SZS003. Despite his Zinogre body, he understands human speech easily and is able to conduct simple and complex mathematical equations that we present to him, though translating his thoughts proves to be somewhat difficult. His mental facilities are human, but his vocal cords are still underdeveloped, so conversation is challenging. He is mostly compliant, but clearly desires that we return him to his original body.

There are issues, however. Since his conscious was transferred to SZS003's body, 113 has displayed fits of rage and aggression that were not seen when he was in his own body. Is this a side effect of the process, or is SZS003's more primal mind having an effect on HS113's mentality?

On the same subject, SZS003 is proving hard to control, even in the smaller and weaker body of HS113. He does not struggle as much as he did immediately after the experiment, but has proven no less dangerous than before. I must admit I am impressed with how quickly SZS003 has adapted to his human body. He is more of a threat in that form than HS113 ever was. He must be kept either sedated or fully restrained at all times, or he attempts to kill anyone within reach. Two researchers have died due to lack of caution so far: one had his throat ripped out, while another was beaten to death. There have been five other injuries that were not fatal, but each could easily have ended in death had they not managed to escape SZS003's reach in time. As such, both of SZS003's hands and feet must be chained up at all times, and he has been equipped with a muzzle to restrain him.

Nonetheless, the results of the Project are utterly astounding, and the very thought of leaving at such a pivotal moment frustrates me to no end. Yet, the Guild does not know about this hidden laboratory of mine, and I must maintain only the most shining reputation with them. I must, unfortunately, answer their call. My 'sabbatical' has come to an end.

I've left precise instructions with Drs. Beatrice and Virgil, but their own investment in this research is as deep as my own, and I have little doubt that they would see this experiment through as thoroughly as possible even without my input. I must trust that Project Gemini is in good hands. It is only my own envy that I am unable to participate that makes me act so childishly.

Appearances must be maintained with the Guild, but I will still make this journey as swiftly as I am able. With fortune, I will return to the lab within one month. With greater fortune, both subjects will still be alive upon my return. If not, I look forward to reading the compiled data and continuing the experiment.

In the meantime I have collected the reports from the other doctors and assistants to read on the road to Loc Lac. I have paid too little attention to their work these last few months, and must give them the attention they deserve.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please review!**

 **So, how many of you were able to figure out why this story was called Charon, hmm? When I was first creating this story, I was tempted to use Hades, that rather notable Stygian from 3U, as the reference and title, but I decided I wanted something different as time went on. Hades was large, but Charon is small; Hades was powerful and strong, Charon is smart and crafty. I was also tempted to make Charon a regular Zinogre, but various story changes made me decide to switch it back.**

 **Also, a return of Frontier monster mentions! The Gougarf is an interesting pair of monsters that come two-for-one in the series, and do tag-team attacks with each other using their magnetism power.**

 **Playing: Fallout 4, Fire Emblem Fates, Pokemon Y, MH Gen demo  
Watching: ****Kekkai Sensen, Deadpool, Steins;Gate**


	3. The Village Chief, Auru

The Village Chief, Auru

 _Disclaimer: Monster Hunter is copyright Capcom. All the characters in this story are mine, unless otherwise noted._

 _Edited by: Hoenn Master96 and Thomas A. Hawk_

* * *

November 10

I have returned from the Volcano. The task which I set for myself is complete, and Jacob's remains were seen off in the most explosive manner that I could manage.

When I arrived in Frost Town, I spent several days searching for a properly explosive compound to give Jacob the sendoff he desired. It took some time, but I managed to find a man who had concocted an explosive mix that he promised could only be outdone by the Guild's anti-dragon bombs. I was somewhat disturbed that he seemed to care not for what purpose I needed them, but I suppose the explanation would only make him look at me strange.

It took another two weeks to find hunters that would be willing to act as my escorts. I hoped to head deep into the volcano itself so I could throw Jacob's urn directly into the core of the mountain, but neither my intended location nor the purpose of my journey seemed to incite much enthusiasm, and the money I could afford to pay was apparently not worth the risk in their eyes. Few hunters wished to act as caretakers for a mad Wyverian who wished to use them as bodyguards for such a simplistic, profitless task. Thankfully I managed to find a few older hunters who sympathized with my purpose and were willing to escort me to the Volcano's inner sanctum.

Jacob's urn was filled with explosives, and I threw the urn into the magma. I hope the explosion brought my friend some peace, wherever he lies, beyond the veil of death. At least, I hope he was amused. I believe the blast killed several Uroktor. It may have killed an Agnaktor as well, or at least scared one off. With that, I returned to Frost Town, paid the hunters and thanked them for their aid, and made my return to Corel.

I believe that my journey has offered me some manner of peace, some manner of acceptance over Jacob's death. There is still guilt in my heart. I still blame myself for his role in his death. But in my memories of Jacob, I know he would not want me to act this way, to torment myself like I do. I know that he wouldn't have blamed me for his fate. He would've wanted me to move on.

I have a village to oversee. I have people to lead. Jacob is gone, but there are still others that I should dedicate my attention to. Tomorrow, I will return to my duties as chief. For tonight, though, I need rest. I'm just so tired right now.

* * *

November 12

It would seem Corel had a festival while I was away, one that our village has never celebrated before, and which I was not aware existed. I suppose calling it a festival might be a grand overstatement, however; it was mostly a small personal celebration that grew into a larger party over the course of a few days. The celebration was called Samhain, or the Week of the Dead, a celebration encapsulating both the fall harvest and a respect for the deceased.

The whole thing was started by a couple Lost that moved into the village during my absence, Hanch and his wife Sera. They claim that the Week of the Dead is a holiday of sorts that has grown in popularity within Loc Lac these last few years, based around several old Lost holidays from their own time, gathered together into a single celebration. From what I've heard, Loc Lac's celebration even includes a day in which those who take part dress up in elaborate costumes, and children are given candies and treats.

However, most of the focus, aside from the harvest, is to celebrate the honored memory of the deceased, which I

* * *

December 20

Kara has informed me that in her foraging of the forests, she has come across a formerly undiscovered cave to the south of the village. She has exclaimed that with only a cursory glance, she discovered that the cavern was positively rich with carbalite ore, more than enough to transform into a productive mine. Linus is planning to visit the cavern in the morning to give it his professional appraisal, but this find could bring great profit and trade value to the entire village. The only issue is determining whose land the cave lies within. It is close to the border of both Ebizu and Amoto's land, and we will need to ascertain which man lays claim to the cavern. Once we know which man rightfully owns the territory, I will begin discussions with them on how best to benefit the village.

The winter solstice is tomorrow, and the village is preparing our annual festival. The inn is growing full with travelers and tourists, those who wish the enjoy the cold weather by visiting hot springs. The allure certainly has its appeal; even the villagers visit the springs more often as the air grows chill, and I'm no exception. Nero is ever busy, but ever smiling thanks to the profit he makes every winter.

As seems to be a growing trend within Corel, the villagers are once again looking for interesting new customs to add to our celebrations, courtesy of Hanch and Sera, and any other Lost passing through the village. They tell us of a holiday called Yuletide, a winter celebration that has also been growing in popularity in the western and northern cities, once more an amalgamation of old Lost holidays. The first day of Yuletide is to begin tomorrow, and is supposed to last until after the passing of the year. I haven't heard much of what Yuletide is supposed to entail, as I have been too busy overseeing the festival's preparation, but I suppose learning through discovery will be interesting.

Oddly, there are some mixed ideas about how to refer to the Lost's winter holiday. I suppose new ideas take some time to really settle on an official name. 'Yuletide' is certainly the most common title, but Hanch provides Sera no small amount of frustration by referring to it as 'Festivus', which seems to be a popular name with a small sect of Lost. Hanch says it's an inside joke of some kind, which he and some other Lost are trying to make more popular.

I wonder if

* * *

January 29

It's been some time since I properly wrote in my diary. There was a time when I would take note of local and personal events once a week or more, but I have lacked the enthusiasm to do so recently. I suppose some part of me has an aversion to this type of thing. I know I have said that I have come to accept Jacob's death, but every time I open the pages of my diary, I am only reminded of my friend. I was the one who bought him his own diary and encouraged to write in it, and it was one of the only possessions of his which survived the Rathian attack. I suppose it comes as no surprise that I find myself in no mood for writing when I take hold of my diary.

But my mood has been improving. I have been growing rather close with Patricia and Elizabeth these last couple months. They were both very good friends of Jacob's, and the three of us have bonded rather well over our memories of him. While they've lived in this town their whole lives, and I knew them from long before, I had never really taken the chance to connect with them until now. They are a very creative and adventurous pair, and I admit I enjoy their company more than I ever imagined I would. I wish I had befriended them years ago.

Though I have once again taken up my father's mantle as chief, the villagers have been showing me much kindness and patience during my extended grieving period. But I am returning to the duties which I am expected to oversee. Today was quite busy, spent investigating the state of the town farms and walls.

This year's winter harvests seem to be coming in well, with the vineyard lush with grapes and nulberries. Bo has told me that his fields of onions, radishes, and potatoes are looking to provide a promising harvest this year, and the garlic and leeks on Ebizu's farm seems to be abundant as well. The lettuce, spinach, and kale growing in the eastern fields are lush and verdant, and Gengle claims that this may be one of the best harvests he's seen since he was a child.

The forests appear to be lush with life as well this year. The children and the hunters have been gathering what seeds and mushrooms they can find, and it seems as though there are a fair number falling from bushes this year. Arzuros, Royal Ludroth, and Rathians have been seen in abundance, and our hunters have been dutifully hunting and capturing them in what numbers they can. It seems our sales to Guild caravans will be prosperous as well this year.

I gathered both Falbi and Fyer, as well as Linus, to gauge the state of the village walls. The winter rains did the timber no favors I fear, and several pillars will need to be replaced before they start to rot. We'll need to look for decent trees to cut down as required. Falbi worries that our best options for replacement timber may be too deep in the more dangerous regions of the forest, and may force us to purchase timber from Yukumo instead. While we are on good terms with Yukumo, we should not create a dependency on them for things like this. I will speak with Coro and the other hunters on the feasibility of gathering timber this week. I would like them to survey the surrounding area for good trees within reasonable and safe distance.

We have some hunters from the Guild that arrived earlier today with an important missive. Father has been speaking to them since their arrival, but he wants me to meet to them as well when I'm available. I'll do it tomorrow. Today has been tiring, and I must have walked from one end of the village to the other at least five times.

* * *

January 30

The hunters I mentioned yesterday were sent by the Guild. They were passing through to give us fair warning about two impending threats in the area.

The first is that a captured Stygian Zinogre managed to break its bindings and escaped into the nearby mountains. However, as though having a Stygian loose in the area was not enough, the hunters also informed us that in its escape, the creature also came upon and damaged a prison convoy transporting several 'criminally insane' individuals to the Eisen gulag. Only three individuals escaped during the encounter, but that's three too many.

One problem after another, it seems. If we catch sight of the creature, we are to treat it as a G-rank threat and should report the sighting to the Guild in Yukumo as soon as possible. If we catch sight of any suspicious individuals wearing chains or with prisoner brands on their arms, we are to take the highest precautions when dealing with them and report them to Constable Medea Simra in Yukumo Village.

While I worry more about the threat the prisoners present, apparently this Stygian is particularly dangerous, to the point where its infamy has garnered it the nickname "Charon". Hena is rather worried; the reports from the Guild concerning this creature are nothing to scoff at, and his records state that he has killed many dozens of hunters. With both events accompanying each other, I've given orders for the town watch to be doubled until we receive word that the creature and the prisoners have been dealt with. The local hunters will be asked to keep their hunts as close to Corel as possible. If Charon shows up at our doorstep, I want those available ready to counter it as best we can.

Hena shared more concerns with me after the hunters departed, however. Stygians are not supposed to inhabit this area of the country, she told me. Rather, they dwell in areas where dragonfell berries are abundant, typically in the far north or in volcanic regions. As far as she is aware, however, Dragonfell berries do not grow in the Yukumo mountains; I am inclined to agree, as the only place I have seen them is in the market in Frost Town. If the Guild was transporting the Stygian through this area, Hena asked, where were they transporting the creature to and from in the first place? I told her that we would ask the Guild emissaries the next time they came through, but I have little doubt the creature was captured and purchased by some wealthy fool who hoped to make it a pet or trophy. I wish the Guild would cease such foolish deals with their more affluent clientele; it only troubles others when things go wrong.

With fortune, this Stygian will simply head northwest towards the Volcano hunting grounds rather than loitering in the area. If nothing else, I hope the Guild takes this seriously and does what they can to either kill or recapture the beast before it causes any trouble for the villages.

In less urgent news, Liz and Patty have invited my father and I to their shop tomorrow evening. The two of them have managed to purchase a crate's worth of savory Arzuros paws, and they are planning to team up with Linus to try something called 'southern-fortress-style shield-grilling', whatever that means. Linus has taken down all the lancer shields from his displays, so I can only imagine what sort of ridiculousness to prepare for.

I expect half the village to show up, given the size of the crate, and I doubt that Liz's mercantile spirit will let her pass the chance to sell some paws to the travelers visiting the springs at an upcharge.

* * *

February 8

No news from the Guild about Charon being captured or killed yet. Word seems to indicate that the creature is moving around quite a lot near villages farther west of here, along the roads. There have been no deaths or injuries reported, which is a blessing, but the beast is sending the Guild's hunters on a merry chase. What worries me most is that the creature is supposedly moving east, towards our part of the country.

Thankfully, one of the three known convicts was reported and hunted down. If the rumors are true, the criminal put up a terrible struggle and was killed in the fray. Such is the fate of criminals, I suppose. There are still two escapees and a Stygian to worry over, however. I've placed the guards on even higher alert than before. The town is tense with worry.

On to village news. A feud has sprung up between Ebizo and Amoto, and the two men have been causing an ever-growing ruckus in opposition to each other. With last winter's discovery of the carbalite-rich cave to the south of town, both men are eager to claim that the hole falls within their land and that they have the rights to mine it. Unfortunately, old town records do not properly denote where one man's property ends and the other's begins, so settling this legally is proving a challenge. Linus' appraisal indicated that the carbalite contained within is very abundant and of remarkable purity, so the owner of the land is all but guaranteed no small amount of profit from mining the cavern. A proposal to the two men to simply share the mine has proven challenging, even if splitting the profits would leave them both as wealthy men. The bickering is growing more aggressive with each passing day, and I fear the conflict will soon come to violence if a conclusion is not reached.

Thankfully, town gossip seems to indicate that there may be a positive end to this situation on the horizon. Kara has informed me that she has seen Ebizo's son and Amoto's daughter spending time together in the far corners of their fathers' properties. They were not continuing their fathers' quarreling with each other, but getting along rather well. I've asked Kara to keep an eye on what may be a budding relationship, but caution will be needed. This could just as easily end in tragedy as it would favorably; there are books and plays aplenty depicting the misfortunes of such children. Money can propel men to do wicked things, even to their own flesh and blood.

In lighter news, Liz and Patty's shield-grilling barbecue went over rather splendidly. Their forays into experimenting with new ideas tend to end rather disastrously if not carefully overseen, especially when they manage to get Linus involved. However, the food was delicious, and what wasn't eaten by the villagers devoured to the last by tourists. The popularity of this cooking method could provide Corel further income during future festivals, and with Arzuros being so abundant in the surrounding hills, this could be the rise of a popular item. Perhaps a local flavor to match Tanzia Chips or Yukumo Eggs? Corel Paws?

The nearest festival is the spring equinox. Once again, Hanch and Sera have told us tales of new customs in cities with dense Lost populations. A new holiday called 'Ostara' has been making waves in Orage and Tanzia, which again seems to cobble together several Lost holidays into a single week of celebration. It seems interesting enough, and several villagers seem keen on continuing the habit of

Something has come up. A messenger from Royai Village to the north has brought us a message. The letter made no sense.

The message requested I come to identify the body of a madman and murderer. They believe the body is Jacob's. They described his features perfectly.

I don't

I can't understand how

I must leave town. I will return quickly I hope, so

No, I will take my diary with me. I must write down what happens. Something terrible has happened, and I cannot fathom why.

* * *

February 12

I write this from the guest room in the house of Tarsus, chief of Royai Village.

The body was Jacob's. My friend's corpse lies in an undertaker's to the south of here. He lays there beheaded, his body pierced nine times with spears and swords.

Seven days ago he was executed while trying to murder a family. He crippled four guards in the fray. He was accused of killing three people, as well as cannibalising the bodies of the deceased.

Things have been done to him. Things that happened before the brawl that killed him. His arm is branded with the letters 'HS-113'. A prisoner's brand? There are shackles chaining his wrists and ankles, and the remains of broken chains are still attached to the bindings. The guardsmen of the village claim that he was wearing them when he first appeared. The wounds he received from the town guard are not the only injuries he bears: the flesh on his hands are scarred and torn as though they have been flayed, and I can see numerous lesser wounds and scars all across his body. There are strange marks surrounding his skull. The mortician claims that several injuries look medical in nature, made from needles and scalpels. There are signs of damage to his nerve endings, which he tells me seems to indicate potion overdosing.

I don't understand.

I don't understand anything at all.

* * *

February 13

I've gathered what information I could from anyone involved. I still don't know how this all happened, or why. I need to write down what I know, however, what the villagers have told me.

Just over two weeks ago, the villagers began to report that there was a strange man in the forest around Royai, skulking through the shadows of the trees. The sound of chains rattling together accompanied the sightings. The man never approached the villagers, however, and would vanish into the trees if anyone tried to approach. The carcasses of animals were soon found in the forest by local hunters and fishermen, torn apart and eaten raw, and not in any methods that the local predators would consume their food. Some feared that it may be one of the escaped convicts, having received the same warning from that the hunters that passed through Corel. A message was to sent to the Yukumo, to call upon the Constable to come and search out the killer.

The first human death came twelve days ago, when a hermit living in solitude on the mountain was found dead by his granddaughter. He had been all but torn apart. A doctor was called in to examine the body, whose investigation led him to believe that the man had been partially eaten after death, flesh and innards torn from the body. He suspected that a Jaggi or some other small monster had slipped into the shack at night, but soon found that the injuries did not match any monsters for the area. Rather, the injuries seemed to have been caused by a human, so it could only be assumed that someone had killed and cannibalized the old man.

More human deaths came quickly after. Only three days after the first death, a wagon was found alone in the forest, the pack Aptonoth still attached and eating grass, but no driver or passengers to be seen. The next day, the owners, a traveling merchant and his wife, were found dead a couple miles outside of the village. They had been killed and consumed in the same way the old hermit had.

Fear began to spread quickly through the village. Between their inability to find the man they sought, the sound of chains, and these new brutal findings, it took little time for more superstitious minds to begin fearing that their town was being haunted by some grim specter or demonic being. Even now there are those that believe Jacob was some paranormal creature sent to haunt their village. Local hunters and fishermen began traveling in pairs out of fear. Doors and windows were locked and latched at night, the town gates were shut tight and those passing through were sharply questioned by the guards at the gate.

Only two days after the deaths of the merchant and his wife, near midnight, one of the guards heard a loud crash and a scream from a house near the city wall. An alarm was raised, and no less than eight men rushed the house.

There they found Jacob. He had assaulted the man of the house, breaking an arm and leg. It had been the man's wife who screamed, snatching her child and trying to flee, but she was cornered by Jacob. When the guards burst through the door, he turned on them.

A monster in human form, they called him, with the eyes of a madman, baring his teeth and growling like a demon.

Upon their entry, Jacob charged them with no fear, and with a fury that struck a terror into the guards. They were armed and Jacob was not, and they outnumbered him eight-to-one, yet he still broke two arms and three legs in the fray. He was pierced nine times with the guards' blades, yet he kept trying to rip out their throats and eyes.

In the brawl, the child of the family tried to flee. Jacob leapt at him, "like a predator chasing down the weakest prey." That's the way the head guard described it. Before Jacob could reach the child, however, he got in Jacob's way, sword in hand. He swung, cutting Jacob's head clean off. Like that, the battle ended. Jacob was dead.

Dead. Killed. Like I thought he'd been five months ago.

After the fight, the body was dragged through the town to the morgue. Every soul in the village was awake by now, and came to see the body. There was anger, and shouting. They wanted no respect for the dead, not that night. However, one of the villagers recognized Jacob's face. The local produce merchant had met Jacob while visiting Corel to sell his wares during one of our festivals. He didn't know that Jacob was supposed to be dead, but he knew I was friends with him, and proposed they write a letter to me. They wanted to know why all this had happened.

Why?

I can't answer. I don't know. I have said it a thousand times since arriving in Royai. I don't know. I don't know.

My friend was supposed to be dead. I mourned him. I buried what little was supposed to be left of him.

I have told the villagers this, but they want more. They demand more. They want to know why three of their people lie dead at the hands of my friend. They want to know why a father and three guards are still recovering from their encounter with him.

Do they think that I haven't asked myself the same damn question countless times in the last several days? Do they think I do not desperately desire the truth as well? Do they think I have not wondered why my friend came back from the dead, covered in scars and chained up like a prisoner?

But I don't know. I don't know anything.

* * *

February 25

It's been a week since I returned home. My mind has been in a state of confusion ever since. I sleep in fits, at most two or three hours a night. When I do sleep, nightmares haunt my vision, taunting me in the dark. I have become reclusive since Jacob's death - TRUE death, I suppose.

I asked the mortician in Royai to cremate Jacob's body. Again. There was no urn, not this time. I bought a container from a villager, a steel egg-shaped object. It was hollow inside, with a screw-on top, but all that mattered is that it was big enough for the ashes, and wouldn't break easily. I don't remember how much it cost, but I bought it. The villagers seemed to think it was too good for Jacob, that his body deserved no respectful treatment after what he'd done. I stopped listening to them after that. The ashes were put in the egg, and I returned to Corel.

They sit on my desk now. I find myself staring at it, as though there is some answer in its curved sides, in the decorative images carved into the sides. I won't let the egg out of my sight. No burials or send-offs. Not this time. It's not as though Jacob will return to life a second time, and yet I

The rest of the villagers worry for me; I can see it in their eyes. I haven't told any of them, save my father, what I learned. I don't think I can bring myself to tell the rest of them. They cared for Jacob too. What could I say? How can I possibly explain any of this, when I don't even know what happened myself? I don't seem to know anything.

I do know one thing, however: Dante LIED to me. He LIED about Jacob's death. He said that Jacob was killed, torn apart and burned to cinders by a Rathian. He brought me PROOF. And now I find that he was alive, and that something was done to him during his absence. Inexplicable wounds across his entire body, scars that I was told meant that he was cut up with medical equipment, shackles on his wrists and ankles, broken chains still attached, and the brand on his arm, whatever meaning it has.

How much of what we were told was truth? What happened to my friend? Why were his arms and legs shackled with steel chains? What created such madness within him? What drove him to commit such violence?

What happened to the others that were a part of Dante's group? If Jacob survived, what of the rest? Where are they?

I must investigate this.

How do I investigate this? Dante is revered by the people of this country. He is a genius that is trusted and respected by the Guild. Before Jacob's first death - alleged death, even I thought him nothing less than a saint, a man with only the wellbeing of the people of Theron on his mind. How do I find evil a man who people believe can do no wrong? How do I accuse such a highly revered individual without being considered mad, or simply envious of him? How do I ask the Guild to start an inquiry of one of their most trusted and respected researchers?

What if I'm wrong? What if he did nothing?

What if Jacob only escaped by a lucky chance, and Dante had nothing to do with this? The man is a hero to the hunters of this country! A genius! He's advanced hunting techniques decades forward using his own ingenuity and intelligence! Surely this is only a coincidence. I cannot blame a man based on conjecture. What if I'm just trying to look for a scapegoat? Someone to blame everything that's happened on?

But I still don't know what happened to Jacob. I still don't understand anything.

Five months. A quiet, friendly young man changed into a mad, raving murderer and cannibal in five months, and the only man who can explain told me he was dead.

How? Why? I don't know. I just don't know.

I need to find out more. I need to try and uncover what's happened. I just need to find a place to start.

I think I will go to Yukumo. Or Loc Lac. Somewhere the Guild keeps track of Dante's work. Perhaps Frost Town, where Dante made his report on the Rathian attack. There must be answers there. There must be something I can do to uncover what's really happened. I'll talk to my father in the morning.

* * *

February 27

I must write this down. It seems I cannot go a single week without my beliefs of what is true and right in the world being shaken, and all known logic is completely shattered.

Jacob is alive! Let us begin with that. However, though the words bring me no small amount of joy, they also fill me with such a sorrow and pain that I cannot put it into words.

Two days ago I made my decision to journey to Frost Town. That was the city that Dante first had made his 'report' about the attack on his caravan, and it was there that I would begin my investigation. Or rather, where I had planned to begin my investigation. I packed my things for a long journey and set off.

I was traveling alone, as I was wont to do; I doubt I would have made decent company with my state of mind anyway. I had little fear of monsters at the time. I know the area well, and Hena had told me that the area was relatively safe. The only fear was of Charon, but no word of the beast had reached Corel in over two weeks, and as such we assumed that the creature had fled north to more familiar realms.

It should come as no surprise that I was struck with an unparalleled fear when the Stygian Zinogre himself appeared through the trees, approaching me with single-minded intent.

I was more than ten miles outside of town by then, and I would never be able to reach help. At the first sighting, I tried to run through the trees in hopes of escape, but I could hear the thundering of the creature's footsteps behind me, giving chase and crying out to me.

I think my first hint that something was amiss was the sounds the Stygian was making. I have seen Zinogres before, once out in the wilds, and once at the Yukumo arena. I have heard the sounds they make, and even when greatly wounded, they are quite fierce. While I had not seen a Stygian Zinogre before today, I have little doubt that they make sounds similar to their aquamarine brethren.

The Stygian that tailed me was making no such sounds, however, but producing bays and whines that seemed very uncharacteristic for a pursuing predator. Looking back, I am sure they were sounds of desperation.

In my bafflement, I turned to look behind me, and in that moment my boot struck an exposed root. I collapsed to the ground, my terror renewed at the fear of death, and the Stygian's footfalls were upon me. I turned, and there it was, towering over me. I imagined my life was at an end then.

But it did not attack me. Instead, again it began making strange barks and yips, twisting its head and patting its paws against the earth. I could only stare at the creature, uncertain why it was not trying to kill me. It was not attacking me, but it had been following me with purpose. Did I dare try to run?

The beast surprised me once more then by lowering itself onto it haunches, laying flat on the ground and dropping it head down to my level. It began whimpering. It was at this point that I first began to suspect the beast was trying to communicate something to me, though I could not guess at what. I could not speak, myself, as fear and confusion had left me immobile, staring blankly at the Stygian as it tried to communicate.

After several minutes of useless effort, the beast appeared to perk up. It reached its paw forward, looking between it and me. I realized that the beast wished me to look at its clawed foot for some reason. Once it was sure my attention was on it, it raised a claw and began tapping it against the ground repeatedly. It had trouble moving its paw like it wanted to, but kept rapping the long, bladed nail against the earth. For a minute or two I didn't understand what the creature was doing and I remained on the ground, baffled and confused, as the beast began to whine in dismay.

Then I remembered. I remembered what Jacob had taught me, the clicking-tapping language, Morse's code. I had thought to put the code out of my mind after his death, but now I stared more intently at the creature's paw. I did not know what I hoped for, but soon the memory of the language returned, and I began to translate the dots and dashes in my mind.

It was the same thing, repeating over and over. "I am Jacob. I am Jacob. I am Jacob. I am Jacob."

I admit that the revelation left me dumbfounded. For several minutes I felt as though I had fallen into some sort of dream, and my desires had manifested themselves into some twisted illusion. Was I misinterpreting Morse's code, and only hearing what I wanted to hear? Over and over again I listened, wondering if my inexperience with the code had led to mistranslating the message, but all I could hear was the one phrase: "I am Jacob."

At last I returned my gaze to the Stygian's- Jacob's - face, speaking his name aloud, showing I understood his message. A moment of sheer glee crossed his face, and his whimpers became barks of joy and relief. My heart once more leapt into my throat when he bounded forward, perhaps in a desire to hug me or show some other form of affection, but he managed to catch himself before running the risk of trampling me, instead laying on the ground and tapping his paws excitedly. I stood, approaching him cautiously and pressing my hand against his fur and scales, affirming that he was real. I explained that I was confused, that this was unbelievable to me. His eyes were sad, but he seemed to understand.

I questioned - no, TESTED him then, asking him things that only Jacob would truly know, as if knowing Morse's code wasn't enough. I asked what his Lost madness was, what I'd given him as a gift before he had left the village, to explain who had blown up one of the boilers several months back, to tell me the name of the woman who'd nearly broken his arm during the last festival. He answered everything correctly. He gave me no reason to doubt.

Finally I was convinced. Finally I had faith that this was somehow not just a dream, that my friend was truly alive, though somehow in a form not his own. I asked him how this could be, how he had found himself within the body of a Stygian. He proceeded to tell me his tale. Several hours passed in its telling, for it was both a challenge for him to communicate in his form, and I was not well-learned enough in Morse's code to easily translate his words. But I strained my ears to listen, paying close attention to his clicking talons, eager to understand what had transpired.

The tale itself was a thing that left me reeling in shock. It seems Dante was even more so the villain than I had made of him in my mind. The tale of the attacking Rathian was true, but the fates of most of those whom Dante had invited into the caravan was pure fallacy. Nearly all of them were captured by the villain, taken away and sequestered in some secret laboratory! Even in my wildest, hate-fueled musings I could not have imagined such terrible deeds from the man!

I asked Jacob what sort of experiments and crimes Dante was committing within the walls of his base, but my friend would not speak of it - tap of it, I suppose. Even in his Zinogre body, I could see him shiver from the memory. I did not press him any further. I will not press him on this matter, not yet. It seems the wounds are still too fresh. And these were only the crimes Dante committed against my friend; I cannot help but fear the number of sins the man has garnered that have been left unspoken or unknown.

Then he came to the matter at hand: his current form. Apparently Dante had been conducting experiments in which he would be able to transfer minds between one living thing and another. He had produced some grand machine that could accomplish the task, and thusly was Jacob strapped to the contraption. I cannot fathom how such a feat could be accomplished, and even with his intelligence it seems that Jacob could not comprehend Dante's methods. And yet the experiment had clearly met with success in the end, with my closest friend being the living proof.

When I asked how he managed to escape from such a hell, Jacob said even he was uncertain as to how he managed it. He told me that some grand explosion shook the entire complex, perhaps some terrible experiment gone wrong, perhaps a beast that had come loose, perhaps the work of some heroic persons that arrived to dismantle the laboratory. Jacob wasn't sure, but there was a great commotion about the whole thing, and most of the assistants and guards were in a frenzy.

Jacob used the opportunity to break out. He believes it was perhaps his compliance that gave him a chance to escape; he had always bowed his head to their demands in fear for his life, even once his mind had been transferred to the body of a Zinogre. But now during this time of chaos, the watch on his cage was lax, and he was able to break his bonds and free himself. At the same time, he managed to free Charon trapped in his body, as well as a few other captives, but before he could do more the guards rallied and he was forced to flee from the complex and into the forest.

He carried Charon with him. His body had been knocked unconscious during the tumult, and Jacob was able to drag him several miles through the forest. Unfortunately, Charon was roused from his sleep and lashed out at Jacob, and during the struggle both man and Zinogre fell into a river. Jacob nearly drowned in the rapids, unfamiliar with his own body, but he managed to drag himself to shore and save himself from drowning.

However, Charon in his body had vanished, lost to the river. Jacob managed to uncover a trail left behind by Charon, who had survived and fled into the forest, but Jacob lacked any skills in tracking. Though his Zinogre body could possibly follow Charon through scent, Jacob was yet unacclimated to his form and could do little more than try to follow the footsteps. He knew quickly, however, that it was a hopeless cause, and all he could do was travel in the same direction and hope he found his body.

For several days he marched northwest in search of Charon, learning how to use his body during the journey. He was forced to attack and consume raw meat from Kelbis and Aptonoth, and though the act disgusted him, it was all he could do if he hoped to survive. He continued in the same direction until he found himself approaching the Volcano hunting grounds. I can't be certain where they started - Dante's lab must be hidden somewhere in the mountains to the southwest of Corel - but Royai village is nearly eighty miles east of Frost Town.

It was then he accepted that it was hopeless for him to try and find Charon through his own power, and he began traveling east in hopes of reaching Corel and seeking aid from me or one of the other villagers. He followed the roads to the southeast, though it was a challenge for him to journey without being seen. He says that he was seen several times by travelers, and on more than one occasion was harassed by a group of hunters. He says he doesn't know if the hunters were Dante's men or not, but it doesn't really matter; I doubt the end result would have been any better for him either way.

The sun was setting in the sky as Jacob finished his story, the day gone as the tale had been told. He had managed to find Corel again a few days ago, and had been keeping an eye on the gate, searching for a chance to talk to someone who might be able see through his appearance, but hadn't been certain how to approach anyone. He figured that I would be his best chance at being understood, and followed me through the forest when he saw me leave Corel this morning, though he admitted he hadn't even thought about using Morse's code until after he'd met me in the woods.

His next request chilled my blood, however. He asked me to help him find his human body, to find Charon. He wanted to find it again, so that he could return to normal, so that maybe he could force Dante to return him to his original body. He asked if I had heard any news of it.

I have never felt greater despair than in that moment, when I realized that fate had seen fit to make me into the harbinger of my friend's hopeless fate. Why did it fall to me to tell Jacob that any hope of returning to his life as it once was lay in ashes inside a metal egg, that he would never be human again? I don't know how long I sat there in silence, but I was snapped out of my stupor at the sound of his tapping claw, asking if I was alright.

I finally found the strength to reply, to explain to Jacob that his body was no more. The next few minutes, I told him of 'his' appearance in Royai, of 'his' execution at the hands of the town guard, and 'his' body's eventual cremation. I couldn't find the ability to put an ounce of emotion into my voice, not even sympathy, reciting the event of the last few weeks in a bland monotone. I presented the steel egg, opening it and showing him the ashes within. I showed him the proof of his body's death, and the proof that he would never be human again.

I must be one of the few people in the world that seen a Zinogre's face contort in horror and despair. He collapsed to the ground, whimpering hopelessly in what I imagine were sobs of grief. I could do little else but sit next to him. I could find no more words in me, no comfort to offer. What could I possibly say to him? What answer could I ever provide? His human body was dead and gone, and even if it hadn't been, the only man with a chance to improve his situation was a villain worse than any I have ever known. What comfort could I ever give him in this?

All I could do was let him continue to weep, until he could weep no more. The sun set in time, and soon the only light was the full moon in the sky. I stood, as did he, and the two of us wordlessly began to make our way back to Corel.

We could see the lights of the village when Jacob ground to a halt. It took little time to realize his concern: while I know he wanted nothing more than to return to Corel, we both knew that he couldn't in his current state. His form had horrified even me upon his first appearance, and I knew the rest of the village would take it no better. The walls of the village would still be lined with guards, the hunters who I myself had asked to stay at the ready in case 'Charon' was spotted approaching. Jacob could go no further, not without risking being attacked by people he knew and loved.

We traveled south of town, to the carbalite cave Ebizo and Amoto are still bickering over. Both men have been so busy arguing over the rights to the mine that neither of them have approached the cavern themselves. The place remains untouched, and for now it will provide a suitable place for Jacob to stay until

Until what? Until the villagers can see him as anything more than the monster that Dante has made of him? Until he can be allowed into the village given his current form? Until a house is built for him?

What exactly am I hoping for?

I've made a promise to bring him food when I can, so he wouldn't have to risk being seen in the forest. I'm not sure if he was listening at the time. As soon as we arrived at the cave, he simply walked into the darkness, found a small hollow and curled up within it. He wallows in his misery, and I can do nothing to help him.

I returned to the village around midnight, much to the surprise of the town guards, as well as my father. I have yet to find the words to tell him what I have learned today, and only told him that I had postponed my journey. Though I still desire to see the villain brought to justice, now more than ever, I have other concerns on my mind, and a friend to comfort. The steel egg sits once more on my desk. I've promised Jacob that I would make a collar of the egg, which he will wear around his neck.

It's strange, thinking back on what I learned in Royai Village. The insane violence that 'Jacob' displayed, the rage which led to his execution, was actually that of Charon himself, whose mind lay within the skull of my friend. Charon in Jacob's form would have still had the mind of a Zinogre. He would have attacked a village of humans, believing himself still a creature of great destruction. A human acting like a monster, attacking creatures he deemed to be prey, raving and howling like a beast.

It is little wonder he was executed. Even here, in Corel, I am certain our own guards would have done the same in their situation. I don't think I could have stopped them, even now that I know the truth.

It occurs to me, I cannot help but wish that I had better questioned those 'hunters' that had come to deliver the news of the Stygian Zinogre and 'prisoners' escape in the first place. Their report no doubt held as much truth to it as Dante's claim of Jacob's demise. I must ask Hena if she remembers their names or faces, so I can seek them out when possible.

If they are still in search of Jacob, they may return. I must be ready to meet them if they do.

* * *

March 4

The last week has been very stressful for me, trying to determine how best to aid Jacob. My father has been informed of the situation, but he can offer me no advice. This whole situation is far beyond either of our expertise, and I doubt there is any man or woman who could advise us on how to proceed.

Unfortunately, the villagers begin to suspect Jacob's presence, but not in the way I expected them to learn. I had once thought that Stygians keep to the volcanic and tundra regions because that is where they can feed their Dracophage bugs with dragonfell berries. I am no ecologist, but I am beginning to suspect that there is more to this process than previously believed, because the villagers have begun reporting swarms of Dracophage bugs appearing in the forest, creating small hives within the nooks of trees and hollows between rocks.

Dragonfell berries have been found in the surrounding forest as well; do the bugs themselves carry them? Swallow them and excrete seeds in new places? Is Jacob's very presence in the area summoning them to his location without him willing it? The day after Jacob began living in the cave, I inspected his fur when bringing him food, and there was hardly an insect to be seen. When I went to visit him yesterday afternoon, I discovered that his fur was becoming filled with the insects, and yet Jacob hardly seemed to notice.

Either way, the locals have begun suspecting that 'Charon' may be in the area, and I can do little to dissuade them. I fear some of the hunters may have seen Jacob in the forest as well. Even small though he is for a Stygian, his mass is still easily spotted from a distance. Between the Dracophage bugs and rare glimpses through the trees, I fear that 'Charon's' presence will soon be all but affirmed. How do I stop the village from reporting this to the Guild, or convince our hunters not to go out and confirm his presence?

Ebizo and Amoto still bicker between themselves, and so the carbalite mine remains unexplored, and Jacob's current dwelling remains a secret. However, I cannot and do not expect Jacob to remain cooped up within the cavern he sleeps within. He has a belly to fill and muscles to keep limber. I cannot keep providing him food, not without soon catching the attention of the villagers, and thus he must be allowed to venture out and hunt his own meals. Keeping him locked away in that cave is something I could not ever impose on him anyway; my friend has suffered enough.

We considered gathering up the elders and village leaders and informing them of Jacob's presence, but neither my father nor I could imagine the conversation going well, not without us being perceived as mad at best. To claim that one of the most notorious monsters in the country is, in fact, docile, would be hard enough, but then to claim that his mind is actually that of Jacob, who we had a funeral for five months ago? That this was done by Dante, one of the most respected and inspiring men in the country? To convince them of only one of these things would be challenge enough, but all would be nearly impossible.

Then there exist the issues surrounding the body itself. No matter Jacob's personality, the fact remains that he exists within the body of 'Charon'. Eventually word will spread that a Stygian has taken up residence in the area, and even if the village decides he is no threat, the Guild will not offer such compassion. Hunters will be sent to kill or capture the monster, and what argument could we make to stand in their way? And even if the Guild does nothing, what of Dante? What of the man who did this in the first place? I cannot imagine a man of his villainy simply sitting back and allowing Jacob to remain here unmolested. Once he knows Jacob's location, hunters will be sent to capture or kill him, of this I have no doubt.

Jacob has been in a state of depression the whole time. I don't blame him. His only hope to become human again lies within an urn that now hangs around his neck. I've been trying to cheer him up as best I can, but I fear there's only so much I can do in the current situation to lift his spirits. What do you tell a man who has become a monster and can never be human again? Maybe I should try and bring Liz and Patty by to see him? Perhaps more encouragement from other friends would help him.

I'll present the idea to him tomorrow and see how he responds. He may be opposed at first, but I feel that this will be better for him. I want him to know that he will still have friends, no matter what he looks like.

He mentioned once that the Lost had a profession of people who provided assistance and advice to those who were experiencing a similar state of despondency. Psycho-somethings. I might ask Hanch what he knows. Maybe I can find someone who can give me advice on this.

* * *

March 20

Corel knows about Jacob now; his existence is all but proven. However, it seems that his reputation is going to develop in a different direction than I feared it would. Patrick Bonaparte's mercantile caravan arrived in Corel this afternoon, and the man himself promptly wove for us a fantastical story, in which his life and those of his fellow merchants were saved by a Stygian Zinogre.

I will leave aside the exaggerations of his account, but his caravan was approaching our village, when his wagons were attacked by a rogue Azure Rathalos. The beast set upon them from the skies, lancing them with fireballs from far beyond their reach, and even his guard, Giulio, a masterful hunter in his own right, could do nothing with only his hammer.

By Patrick's telling, the Azure unleashed a fireball which was certain to blast apart the wagon he and his wife shared, when a Stygian Zingore leapt from the trees and took the fireball in their stead! Despite its wound, the Stygian proceeded to stand and battle the Azure, keeping it from continuing its assault on the caravan. I don't know how much of Patrick's telling was true; several parts of the tale were certainly more fantastic than would seem real, but then I have little room to be cynical, given recent events. In the end, Patrick claims that the Stygian managed to clamp its fangs down on the Rathalos' tail and pull it down, before collapsing the wyvern's skull with a blow from its foreleg.

Patrick feared the Stygian would turn its attention on the caravan now that the Rathalos was no more, but instead the beast turned and fled into the forest, ignoring the carcass of the Azure and leaving the caravan alone.

I've ordered Coro and Fado to venture out and investigate the road and find out what they can from the battlefield, and a wagon has been prepared to gather the remains. Hena had written up a report to send to the Guild and inform them that 'Charon' was in the area, but I managed to convince her to refrain from doing so for now. Once the initial commotion over the incident was over, my father took control of the situation; he knew where my true concerns at the moment lay. As soon as I was able, I left the village to check up on Jacob.

When I arrived, it was easy to see that Patrick's tale was not entirely fantasy: there was a large burn wound on the right side of Jacob's torso, and several claw and talon marks raked across his back, some of them still tinted with poison. He was not in as bad of condition as I feared, thankfully, but what worried me more than anything was the dragon element coursing across his spine. I had feared that the effects of the Dracophage bugs could be avoided, but it seems that the creatures are attracted to him, despite his desires.

I did what I could to tend to his wounds, but his size makes treatment difficult, and I don't know how effective human medicine is on monsters. I offered him some potions, but Jacob seems to have developed an aversion to using them. Based on what the mortician in Royai told me, I imagine that Dante is the cause of that.

While treating him, I regaled him with the praise that Patrick and Giulio had heaped upon him, emphasizing how grateful they'd been for his intervention. Jacob seemed to perk up at the words, and for the first time since his return to Corel his mood seemed to lighten. Using his body for something useful seems to have incited some positivity into him. Perhaps this can be the first step in helping him push through his depression.

* * *

April 9

Rumors and stories about Jacob continue to spread through the village, and recent events have turned their opinion of him in a direction I could never have dreamed of at first. He is not the merciless beast I feared they would see him as, but some of the villagers are starting to consider him as something of a spirit or protective creature. The 'Guardian Stygian of Corel' they're calling him.

Several more stories on Jacob's exploits in the surrounding area are filtering through the village. Kara tells a tale in which she was set upon by an Arzuros while gathering herbs and berries, and Jacob intervened, chasing the beast off before running away himself. Some of the children claim that he appeared to slaughter a pack of Jaggis which cornered them while they were collecting mushrooms. Several others have run across him out in the forest, fearing for their lives initially, only for Jacob to turn and walk away rather than attacking.

I've been in discussions with Ebizo and Amoto the last few days, ever since it was discovered that Jacob has taken up residence in the carbalite cave. Both men are irked, but I've told them that since it is still unknown whose property the cave lies within, the cave will belong to Charon until they reach an agreement. Or, if they want him gone so badly, they can go to the caves themselves to convince him to leave. Neither of them seemed fond of that plan, and hiring one of the local hunters to challenge Jacob wasn't an option either; none of our village hunters are G-ranked, and none of them wish to challenge one of the country's most notorious monsters, especially when he isn't acting aggressively. Nobody wishes to risk waking a sleeping giant.

All in all, his actions are giving him a very positive reputation among the villagers. Many are still uncertain about the presence of Charon, but those that speak in his favor do so with fervor. Hena continuously reminds me that it would be for the best to inform the Guild, and has threatened to do so with or without my permission, and yet she refrains. If I can convince her of all people that Jacob is not a threat, perhaps there is hope to keep him safe.

I had hoped to use this positive recognition to help protect my friend. I know of some villages and towns which have 'protected monsters', creatures which do not harm the local populace and thus have earned their respect and love to the point where they forbid the Guild and their hunters from hunting them. However, such towns are usually quite isolated, and I fear that 'Charon's' reputation will make this impossible. No matter how benevolent Jacob may act now, the Guild will not forget the deaths caused by the body's previous inhabitant. It's not as though I can tell them, "This is not Charon, but Jacob."

I should still try, however. If enough villagers agree with this plan, we may yet be able to dissuade the Guild from seeking Jacob's head, or at least delay them long enough to think of a better plan. As of yet, they don't know he's here, not yet, but it's only a matter of time.

Should I restart my investigation of Dante's crimes? If there is a man alive whose word may save Jacob from spending his life as a target of the Guild, it is Dante's. If I could have him convicted of his crimes, have him confess what he's done to my friend, perhaps the Guild could be swayed to allow one single Stygian Zinogre the right to life and freedom.

I've been contemplating going behind his back and informing Patty and Liz of the situation and bringing them to the cave to keep him company. They had been two of his closest friends before he left, and I believed that his mood had improved enough that perhaps their presence would be good for him in the long run. I have done my best to provide him with the support I can, but I feel that showing him that there are others who will care about him, despite the circumstances, will help him begin to find a place for himself in the world, even without his human body. I've been teaching them Morse's code in my spare time, preparing them so they can communicate when the time comes, though obviously with false pretense.

If nothing else, I know that they can provide him companionship if I do end up continuing my search for proof of Dante's crimes.

* * *

April 14

Damn that bastard Dante to Hell!

And damn me for not foreseeing this, despite knowing Dante's villainy.

I should have known this would happen. I should have known that these rumors about Jacob, about 'Charon, Corel's Guardian Zinogre', would eventually reach the ears of Dante. I should have known that he'd do something in retaliation. I never thought it would be this soon, or this merciless.

Three days ago, twelve hunters arrived in Corel and purchased rooms at the inn. Nero told me that he'd heard them say they were headed towards Yukumo as a party of friends. They were making an adventure of their journey, he said. They spent their days in the village perusing the shops or swapping stories with the local hunters, and spent their nights in the springs, eating and drinking all the food and alcohol that Nero had, as fast as he could cook and pour it. The best kind of customers, he said. Linus liked them because one of them bought a new hunter's knife from him, and one of the archers bought out a good portion of Patty and Liz's arrow stock.

I paid them no mind. They were doing the same things other tourists and visitors did when they came through town. Hunters usually didn't stay longer than a night; usually they passed right on through, eager to press on to Yukumo. But they were spending money, and business is business, and Corel can always use the business. No doubt the villagers were willing to tell stories about their new Stygian protector, filling the hunters' ears with everything they would need to know that this Stygian was not some feral beast as might be expected, but a being with a human mind within its skull. No doubt this was all they needed to know.

This evening I brought Jacob food. I don't do so as often as I used to, as he's been hunting for himself these days, but today was an exception. I brought him food from the festival, in hopes that it would make him happy.

I was returning home when a strangled cry caught my attention. Before I could so much as turn around, my head was yanked backwards, and there was a cold pain against my throat. A grating voice growled in my ear, telling me not to struggle or I would die. The next thing I knew my hands were bound behind my back and I was thrown to the ground, and I was not the only one there either. My father, Hena, Ebizo, Sera, and even Uli and her infant son were bound on the ground as well, all of them dirtied and battered, with fear in their eyes. Our captors were none other than the twelve hunters.

They made their intentions clear from the start: they were here to kill or capture 'Charon', and we were all leverage to ensure the process went smoothly. The others were frantic, confused as to why the hunters needed hostages to capture a monster. Only my father and I could maintain our calm though understanding. We tried to question them, but the men and women gave us nothing, pulling us to our feet and marching us forwards, their blades against our backs. A single word and we would die, they told us. Were it only my own head on the line, perhaps I would've tried to warn Jacob, even at the cost of my own life, but I dared not risk the lives of the other villagers as well.

In short time we arrived at the mouth of the cave. A few of their number strode forth, shouting into the darkness, ordering 'Charon' to show himself. At first there was no reply, but then they announced us as their hostages. I could nothing but watch as Jacob appeared out of the darkness, taking in the situation with fear and despair. The hunters gave their orders, telling Jacob that he should allow himself to be captured, or else.

Jacob was forced to lower himself and lay on the ground. A number of the hunters began to approach him, pulling tranquilizers and other drugs from their belts, leaving behind only two with their blades out and pointing at the villagers. I tried to speak up, only for the hunter nearest me to strike me with the pommel of his sword and drop me to my knees.

A furious roar sounded, and when I raised my head I found that Jacob had raised to his feet in anger, howling at the hunters around him. Those near him had taken a step back, fearful as sparks of dragon element jumped across his scales, and dim pinpoints of red light began to appear, crawling through his fur. There were shouts and weapons were unsheathed as the hunters began yelling at him, and the other villagers began crying out in fear. The hunters guarding us was no less affected, turning his blade to point at Jacob as his howls grew more agitated.

Before our captors could realize his mistake, I kicked one in the back, throwing him into the other and knocking both to the ground. They rose and turned on me, but before they could do more, Jacob bellowed and leapt over the hunters to crash down on top of our two captors, slamming them into the dirt before throwing them into the trees with his paws. Jacob quickly tore his fangs through my bindings, freeing me. There were shouts from the other hunters, but Jacob had planted himself staunchly between us and them, howling threateningly at the encroaching men and women.

I wish I'd paid closer attention then. Perhaps I would've sensed that something was wrong. But I was too focused on trying to free the others so we could escape. The hunters were shouting and rallying, preparing to attack. Again, Jacob howled at them, and for the first time I sensed something else in the sound. The air was growing heavy, and red lights flitted through the trees as Dracophage bugs began to appear in the darkness. The hunters charged, thinking their skill and greater numbers would lead them to an easy victory.

They were wrong.

What happened next, I cannot write. Jacob did nothing short than massacre the hunters that came for him, with the most brutal methods I have ever seen in a living being. The fight was fearfully short, and I wager that it couldn't have lasted longer than two minutes. The air was filled with screams of pain, cut short as their lives were ended. The air was thick with dragon element, which I didn't even know Jacob had learned to control, and yet the Dracophage bugs came at his call. At least three of the hunters were killed as the bugs burst apart across their chests, the dark lightning ripping through their armors, or from bolts of power dropping from the sky. When the bodies were dragged to the morgue later that night, some of them were still hot and smoking.

I never imagined Jacob had it in him to commit such violence. I know he's gotten some experience acclimating himself to his power over the last few months, and has been forced to battle other monsters and run from hunters for the sake of his own survival. What I witnessed this night, however, was far beyond anything I ever expected, butchering not three or four, but twelve hunters in a matter of minutes.

I could barely breathe when it was finally over, my eyes were wide in horror. The last of them hung in the air, her neck crushed by Jacob's fangs and her blood still dripping down his jaw. The back of her armor had been ripped apart by a bug that had detonated against her spine. She had been running away when the bug had hit her. Jacob had chased her down. She was screaming when he'd caught her.

Upon finding my breath again, I cried out his name. Jacob turned, and I froze in terror. His eyes blazed with a primal fury and hate, an expression I had never seen before, not in him. The lightning coursing across his back flared, and a deep, threatening growl rumbled from his throat. His fangs and claws still dripped with the blood of the men and woman he'd reduced to pulp. In that moment, there was no humanity in him. He looked upon me not as his friend, but as a predator would look upon prey.

I realized that I was truly staring upon a beast. I was looking at Charon.

Jacob opened his mouth, releasing the throat of the huntress. I couldn't speak as Charon turned to face me, rolling his neck as he began to stalk my direction, black lightning sparking across his spine as he prepared to attack me.

A cry of terror broke the tension of the moment. In my fear, I'd forgotten about the villagers behind me. Colin, Uli's son, had begun crying. His infant wails echoed through the trees, and Charon's eyes turned towards him. For a moment, all was silent, save Colin's cries, and then Charon's expression changed. One moment he was a predator, the next his eyes were wide with realization and horror. He was Jacob once more.

He looked around in shock at what he'd done. The sounds he made were - I can't think of how to describe them. Horrified. Disgusted. Both of those words seem lacking at the feeling of realization he seemed to feel.

Colin's crying continued, and when Jacob laid eyes on the boy again, he seemed to wither. He turned then and fled into the forest, with the glowing Dracophage bugs trailing close behind him.

I've spent the last several hours cleaning up the mess. It's nearly dawn, but the entire village is awake now, and not a man or woman isn't in a rage about all this. The general consensus is that the hunters were poachers of some kind, out to slaughter 'Charon' for money or fame. There are other suspicions as well, from those wise enough to wonder why poachers would take hostages when setting out to capture a monster, especially with as many as they did. I am thankful that none of the villagers heard me when I called out Jacob's name; trying to explain that would be challenging. Hena has already written a long and furious letter to be sent to the Guild at dawn, demanding an explanation and investigation.

I doubt the Guild will be able to offer us anything at all. I've demanded that the bodies of the hunters be preserved as best they can, and have ordered several guards to maintain a vigilant watch on the corpses around the clock until the investigators from the Guild arrive. I've ordered that drawings be made of their faces, and all the information on their Guild cards be copied, and to have all of it stored away and hidden somewhere safe. Many are confused at the decision, but I can't explain myself to them. Perhaps I'm being paranoid, but if Dante was willing to commit such a spectacle to capture or kill Jacob, I don't doubt he's made contingencies to remove any connection to him. I don't want these men and women to be disfigured in the night, or worse, have our crematory burned to the ground by an arsonist. There are other guests and travelers in the village, and though I do not wish to assume the worst, I must act as though one of them may be another one of Dante's underlings.

I wish there was some way to level the blame on Dante - they were his men, I'm certain of it - but Dante's name was never mentioned during their time in our village, nor when I and the others were captured. I wonder if these men and women will even be in the Guild's records, or if Dante has worked some witchcraft to make them unknown and unknowable. I will be paying close attention to the investigation when it begins, and try and seek out any connection to Dante.

There are worried whispers being spoken between people, fearful words about 'Charon'. Guardian he may be, but the twelve shredded bodies in our morgue, and the story the hostages wove no doubt has stricken a new uncertainty through the villagers. Most seem to agree that the villains who held us at swordpoint deserved no less a punishment, but the worry and fear still linger.

Worse yet, with this there is no more hiding that 'Charon' is here. Poachers or not, the Stygian has butchered twelve more hunters, and his presence near Corel must be reported to the Guild. Though the villagers may have begun growing fonder of him, I doubt there is enough love yet to oppose a hunt order from the Guild itself, especially for such an infamous creature.

Dante knows he's here. The Guild soon will as well. I don't think Jacob can stay here anymore.

* * *

April 20

It's been a week since Dante's men were killed. As I suspected, two days after their deaths, there was an 'accident', and all the bodies were burned prematurely. The drawings of their faces and the information we gathered from them are still safe, however, buried in a hidden place.

Hunters haven't come for Jacob yet, but word is that the Guild is trying to rally the best they can find to deal with this 'threat'. I've been trying to find a way to sway their decision, but I can't think of anything that will work.

I fear for Jacob's sanity. His mood continues to grow worse. But worse, his mind is decaying. I can sense it.

Who am I kidding? It requires no sixth sense to detect his crumbling sense of self. Sometimes, when I visit, he looks at me and it's like the night when the hunters attacked, and he's a beast. I feel as though I am prey who has willingly walked into the predator's den. I feel like each time it happens, it takes longer and longer before he regains himself. He bares his fangs and growls at me. Dark energy dances along his spine. Despite his efforts to ward off the Dracophage bugs before, the cavern is positively swarming with them now, and the air is thick with energy. More than once, I've come back to the village blighted, and I've kept to carrying around a bottle of Nulberry wine to fend off the effects.

Every day that passes, Jacob becomes less a man, and more a monster. Every time I visit, I can't help but wonder if it's Jacob I'll find in that cave, or Charon.

My grandfather once said to me that "the mind is but a plaything of the body", that our physical form determines how we think and act. Maybe he was right. Maybe the longer Jacob spends within the body of Charon, the more feral he becomes. I truly wish that isn't the case.

What do I do?

* * *

April 22

Jacob asked me to kill him today. He wants to die before the beast inside him makes him hurt someone he loves.

I hate myself more than anything in the world, because for a second, I considered it. I thought for even the slightest moment that maybe it would be a mercy to do so.

How do I save Jacob from the bestial impulses which threaten to overtake him? What could I possibly do to help? Where could he go that

* * *

April 23

Jacob is gone. He has left Corel on a journey to seek a chance at retaining his humanity. Though I wished to help him, to provide him some measure of comfort, I could do nothing, and he is forced to leave in search of an answer that I could never provide.

Though I know he could never find hope here in Corel, there was another place that he could possibly find peace: Mount Ataraxia, blessed by the god of the mountain. I've seen for myself the effects of the peak, how it brings tranquility to the monsters which dwell upon it. If it can do such for the most mindless of creatures, perhaps it can help Jacob keep his sanity, before 'Charon' overwhelms his mind completely.

I went to his cave last night, to present him with the idea. It's painful to see him now. He has almost stopped eating, and even in his current form I can see his body growing thinner.

He didn't respond at first to my idea. I know he never believed in the effects of the mountain. I know he only thinks it's a farce. But even so, I pressed on, hoping that he would accept. For over an hour, I pressed him, pleading for him to at least go to the mountain and find out if there was the slightest help. If nothing else, the Guild and Dante would not be able to chase him; the laws of the mountain forbid any hunting within the shadow of the peak, laws which even the Guild has sworn not to break. I cannot protect him here in Corel, but the laws of the mountain are older than the country itself.

It took some time, but eventually I saw the slightest glimmer of hope in his eyes, the slightest belief that maybe the mountain could do something for him, even if it was only to delay the inevitable. He told me he would do it. He would travel to Mount Ataraxia and live there under the blessing of the god.

He left this evening, as the sun passed under the horizon. The only thing he carried with him was his urn, wrapped around his neck like a collar. He promised that he would only travel during the night, to avoid being seen by hunters, to better keep himself safe from Dante's reach. He promised he would keep himself well-fed on his journey, and not starve himself as he had been. I made him promise a great many things. I made him promise to do whatever he could to keep himself alive and safe. As long as he did that, I could be happy.

Finally, we said our farewells, and Jacob left, vanishing through the trees and heading east towards the mountain. He is gone from Corel now, likely never to return.

I came home, told my father what I had done and where Jacob has gone. Now I sit here, writing.

I just realized that Jacob is now truly alone. Though he may find some kind of peace on Ataraxia, I am the only person I know who both knows of Jacob's situation and understands Morse's code. I am the only person I know of that could ever hope to converse with Jacob, the only person that could try to understand his thoughts. Even if he finds a peaceful place to live, who would he be able to speak to? I have grown so comfortable in our communication with each other that I forgot there would be no others outside the village who could do the same.

Why didn't it occur to me? Why did I send him somewhere he would never have companionship? He must have known. He must have realized that I would be sending him into a realm of solitude. And yet, he went anyway. Why would he subject himself to that?

Dante. It must be because of Dante. He must've known that Dante and his men would keep coming as long as he stayed here. As long as he remains within Corel's area, the village could face a similar attack to the one from last week. The man was willing to take hostage a number of Corel's villagers - I suppose 'hostages' would not be the correct word, come to think of it; I have little doubt that the hunters had no intention of releasing us upon capturing Jacob. Had things ended badly, I fear that I and the others would have been taken away to become the next test subjects in Dante's foul experiments.

But he was willing to send a dozen hunters to capture Jacob, to take hostages for the sake of achieving his goals, and to burn the bodies of his underlings to hide any evidence. The longer Jacob stays, the more danger Dante poses to Corel. Jacob must have known this.

Will he even be safe on the Mount? Dante has shown his lack of scruples when it comes to adhering to the law. Can the laws of protection that Ataraxia possesses possibly protect Jacob as well?

Even if they can't, where else could he go? The mountain's power may be all there is that can save his sanity.

There are no other options.

Damn it all, why can't I do more?

* * *

April 24

All these years I have been a teacher, a shepherd, a guiding, helping hand to the people of Corel. Always I have been the voice of advice, offering aid and assistance where I could. Always there was a solution that could be found, a path that could be taken.

But now there is nothing. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to help. Pointing Jacob to the mountain and wishing him the best is all that I can do. I have never felt so powerless. So useless. And there's nothing I can do to solve any of this. Even now I can barely comprehend what has happened.

I cannot stand much more of this. This is the third time I have had to say goodbye to my friend. Twice I have had to come to terms with his death only to discover him living, and now I send him off, fearing a third. Even if he isn't slain, the person he was may disappear forever, to become nothing but another monster wandering the wilds. Even if he retains himself, staving off the feral instincts that seek to overwhelm him, I cannot fathom a way to make him human again. The villain Dante is the only one with knowledge of how to transfer minds, but Jacob's human body is gone, executed and cremated. I fear the life of a Zinogre is the only option remaining to him, and to him that manner of existence is little better than death itself.

What has my friend done to be cursed like this? Why must he suffer? And why does there seem to be no hope for him to be free of this? I would curse the gods for handing down this fate, but it was human hands that brought upon this torment.

The villagers have looked at me strangely lately. I fear my expression has changed from what it once was. Always I used to try and be calm, but now I am filled with such anger and frustration, and I cannot find an outlet.

No. I have an outlet. There is still Dante.

I must make him pay for what he's done. Not only to Jacob, but to all who have suffered in secret by his hand.

I won't simply kill him. That would be too easy, and his reputation is too grand for me to do so without being made the villain in the eyes of the country.

No, I must crush him completely and wholly in every way. I must ruin his reputation, embarrass him, make the world know him as the scum he truly is. Anything less would not do justice to the crimes he has committed. I must bring his crimes to light. No more waiting, no more delaying my investigation.

I need proof.

I must leave behind Corel if I am to see this through.

It will be hard on me. This village has been my home my whole life, and I have never left it for long. However, I can sense that this sort of mission is not one that will be undertaken in a small amount of time. Months or years, I cannot guess how long this may take, but I must do it, somehow or another.

I will speak to my father in the morning, to prepare for this journey of mine.

I will have justice. Or I will die grasping for it. There will be no middle ground.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please Review!**

 **I realize that I said in the last chapter that I wouldn't be putting more of Charon out due to spoiler reasons, but I eventually figured that at least one more chapter wouldn't hurt. This chapter doesn't really spoil anything that happens later in SOP, so I felt like it was safe to put out there. Chapter 4 and 5 would cause issues with SOP's plot though, so the rest of Charon will have to hold off until later. Hopefully by the time I get to that part of the story in SOP, I'll also have several more chapters of Charon done as well so I can release a wave of chapters at that point.**

 **Hehe, more typo fun in this chapter. Instead of writing "the Guild rep who delivered the news", I accidentally wrote "the Guild rep who delivered the newds". Misspelled, I know, but it still made me laugh nonetheless. Apparently the reintroduction of the printing press has also reintroduced porn, and the Guild takes care of the smut transport. Probably something short and stupid like a Tijuana bible.**

 **This story is actually proving really challenging to keep organized. I'm actually forced to keep fairly accurate track of the times and dates of certain events as well as maintaining a realistic sense of scale. Would you believe the initial time of Jacob's return to Corel was going to be in Oct/Nov? That would've set everything that happened to him in Dante's lab within the span of a few weeks, and that wouldn't take into account traveling time either. But no, the time between the Rathian attack and Jacob's return in a Zinogre body now tabulates to around five months, between his 'death' on Sept 26 to his return on Feb 27. His escape was on Jan 23. I really had to stretch out what Auru got up to during those months to make it work… and now I have to do the same for the next chapter. Thankfully the first entry for chapter 5 will start immediately after chapter 4. Looking at it now, chapter 6, the end of part 1, looks like it'll occur around two years after Jacob's first entry on June 14.**

 **So is anyone else enjoying the Switch? I just finished Breath of the Wild, and whew, what a ride. It had its flaws, sure, but it was easily one of the best LOZ games I've ever played, though I did find the story elements to be a little lacking. Also, I'm taking part in the Splatoon 2 testfire this weekend, and so far I'm enjoying that too. I'm having a bit of trouble acclimating to the motion controls, but I think I'll be able to get used to it before the full game comes out.**

 **Of course, now that I'm done with BOTW, I can finally go back and play through Horizon: Zero Dawn, which came out only a few days before BOTW… after that I can hop on Nier: Automata, which looks like another great game. Hopefully by the time I'm done with those three games, the Switch will have one or two more games for me to take a swing at.**

 **Playing: Fire Emblem Fates, Pokemon Y, Stardew Valley, Pokemon Moon, LOZ: BOTW, Horizon: Zero Dawn**


End file.
